


I like the chance you take, I like the mess you make

by emmyphant



Series: Jolie and Yaz [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: ADHD!Doc, F/F, Human!13, Human!Doc, I have no idea what I'm doing, ND!Doc, Student!13, Student!Yaz, You Have Been Warned, a lot of fluff, and a good helping of angst to come, coffee shop AU, kinda slow burn, maybe idk, mostly just two gay idiots, some chapters will have a tw for anxiety and panic attacks, some chapters will have a tw for discussions of sexuality/coming out, some chapters will have a tw for mentions of domestic abuse, thasmin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:35:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 140,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25288423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmyphant/pseuds/emmyphant
Summary: Yasmin Khan is working in her best friend's café while she takes a break from her psychology degree after her life took a turn for the worst.Jolie Smith has just transferred university for the final year of her engineering degree and is desperate to make new friends in this new city.Yes, this is a coffee shop AU
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Series: Jolie and Yaz [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2135433
Comments: 286
Kudos: 253





	1. There's a Colour Scheme Inside Every Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The young woman who walks, or rather stumbles in, is not quite what Yaz was expecting, and certainly a welcome change of pace to her morning. She’s petite, so much so that the huge bag on her back looks like it might topple her any second. Yaz bites back a laugh as the woman scowls at her feet, almost like she’s telling them off for tripping her up. Walking up to Yaz at the counter, she has a grin plastered on her face, almost as bright as the vertical-striped rainbow shirt Yaz spots under her knee-length blueish-grey coat. Fixing a smile on her face, Yaz steps forward. “Hi! What can I get you?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi!! This is my first ever attempt at fanfic, so please be gentle. I'm @emmyphant over on tumblr if you want to come say hi. I don't bite, I promise :)

Yaz rolls over and groans, clumsily tapping her bedside table to locate her phone and the source of the incessant beeping noise. 5:30am is way too early for anyone to get up, she decides. Squinting at the harsh light of her phone screen, she taps at it in annoyance until the sound stops, and lets her arm flop back onto the mattress with a quiet _thunk._ Staying in bed is oh so tempting, but unfortunately her 7am start at the coffee shop is more important.

Dragging herself out of bed, careful to be quiet so as to not wake anyone else, she grabs a jumper from the floor to combat the early morning chills dancing over her bare skin. Pulling it over her head, she walks sleepily to the kitchen. Cereal and juice is the choice of the morning, and soon Yaz is settled at the kitchen table, a view out of the flat window over the city and the strong smell of the fresh orange in her glass wafting up her nose. She grimaces against the sunlight streaming in through the window. She hasn’t been on the morning shift in a long time, given her class schedule the last couple of semesters. But this semester off means she’s free to work whenever, and so had been delegated the opening shift. At least Grace is on the early shift, she likes Grace. The retired nurse has a friendly and warm demeanour about her, and her husband, Graham, and grandson, Ryan, often come in early too, and they can all chat before the morning rush of sleepy commuters. Sighing, Yaz gets up from the table, rinsing her bowl and glass in the sink before heading back to her room to get ready. 

45 minutes later, Yaz is dressed, somewhat more awake, and ready to head off. Checking her phone, she sees a message from her best friend and boss, Clara.

> _Come on, sleepy head! Boss might not approve of you being late!_

Yaz laughs, shooting off a reply before pocketing her phone and grabbing her favourite hoodie to pull over the top of her plain black shirt. 

> _I’ll have you know, I’m dressed and ready to leave, do not doubt my skills_

That’s the advantage of the boss happening to be your oldest and closest friend, you can get away with a few more things than the average employee.

She had started working at Clara’s Café, at the beginning of her second semester of her first year at uni. She wasn’t looking for any particular job, but the offer coming from her best friend was too good to pass up. Since finishing Year 11 and going their separate ways, they hadn’t had nearly as much time to spend together, and the coffee shop was the perfect distance between her flat at the time, and the university. 

Popping her head around the kitchen door before heading out to work, she finds her parents in their usual morning routine, the familiar sounds of her dad talking to the cooker and her mum flicking the newspaper a welcome comfort.

“I’m heading out now.”

“Have a good day at work, beti! Be careful.”

Yaz winces slightly at the last remark, but brushes it off as motherly concern, given everything that had been going on. 

“Thanks mum! Good luck on that interview today. Love you!”

Looking up from the cooker briefly, Hakim smiles too. “Love you too, say hi to Clara for us.”

* * *

When she arrives at the café, she checks her phone, she sees that she’s 10 minutes early, but decides to go in anyway, knowing that Clara, and most likely Grace, would already be there. Her suspicions are confirmed with the delicious baking smells and two familiar voices in reply to her cheery “good morning,” called out as she hangs up her hoodie and backpack. 

Yaz walks into the kitchen, grabbing her apron off its hook and tying it behind her back as she leans against the doorframe. Grace glances up from the pastry she’s rolling out, a playful smile on her lips. “Morning, love! How is this early hour treating you?”

Yaz grumbles in indignation, but smiles nonetheless. “Not as bad as I expected. The 5:30 alarm wasn’t much fun, but at least the walk in was quieter than usual.”

Grace smiles in return. “I’m glad you’ve got your positive head on today, love.”

Clara turns around from the oven where she had just slipped in a tray of cupcakes. “Me too. It’s nice to see you so happy.”

Yaz grimaces slightly at the comment, but smiles in return regardless. “I’ll go get started setting things up then.”

* * *

The café is due to open at 7:30, and the first part of Yaz’s shift is quiet, as she had expected. It isn’t until about 8 that things really start to pick up, and Yaz finds herself battling the first real wave of tiredness. She can feel herself growing increasingly irritated by the fact that the two other members of staff who were supposed to turn up at 8 haven’t yet, leaving her to deal with the morning rush on her own. She tries to keep her irritation at bay while dealing with customers, although some of the slightly too friendly men rub her up the wrong way. Eventually, the café quietens down a bit, and she thinks she might get a moment to herself, when she hears the bell jingle at the door, announcing a new customer. Sighing heavily, Yaz pulls herself up into a smarter standing position, looking up to give her usual warm welcome.

The young woman who walks, or rather stumbles in, is not quite what Yaz is expecting, and certainly a welcome change of pace to her morning. She’s petite, so much so that the huge bag on her back looks like it might topple her any second. Yaz bites back a laugh as the woman scowls at her feet, almost like she’s telling them off for tripping her up. Walking up to Yaz at the counter, she has a grin plastered on her face, almost as bright as the vertical-striped rainbow shirt Yaz spots under her knee-length blueish-grey coat. Fixing a bright smile on her face, Yaz steps forward. “Hi! What can I get you?”

“Hiya! Erm, kinda weird question, but do you have custard creams?”

Yaz looks at the woman in confusion, her brows furrowing. That wasn’t something she had been asked for thus far. “Ehhh, no, sorry. Anything else I can get you?”

The other woman sighs dejectedly, short blonde hair falling in front of her face as she does so. “Not to worry. See, I always like to have a good stash at my flat, except I forgot to get more when I went to the shop yesterday, and now I don’t have any, and… Sorry, I’m distracting myself.”

Yaz smiles in amusement. Normally she isn’t a fan of chatty customers this early in the morning, but finds that she doesn’t mind the blonde’s rambling. The other woman glances at the menu chalkboard on the wall above Yaz’s head, before turning back to her look at her. 

“I think I’ll settle for a hot chocolate then, with marshmallows and cream of course. Not really a proper hot chocolate if it doesn’t have marshmallows and cream. Oh, and a slice of carrot cake, please.”

Yaz nods, taking a slice of cake from the case and plating it, handing it over before turning to the register to tap in the order. “Name, please?”

The blonde stares back at her in confusion, her head tilted slightly to the side.

“For your order. We call out your name when it’s ready.”

“Oh! Jolene, erm Jolie, I guess. Either is fine.”

“Alright Jolie, that’ll be three fifty, please,” Yaz replies, a warm smile on her lips.

She watches as the blonde digs around in her pocket, producing a handful of coins a few seconds later. “There, that should be enough!” she announces gleefully, placing the coins into Yaz’s waiting hand, the backs of her fingers brushing briefly against Yaz’s palm. Yaz draws in a sharp breath at the contact, the blonde’s touch leaving a lingering warmth running up Yaz’s arm as she draws back. She looks back up at the blonde shyly, tucking a stray strand of hair that had fallen from her braids behind her ear. She slides the change across the counter, not trusting herself to potentially make actual contact again. “I’ll call you when it’s ready,” she says, before turning round to start on the hot chocolate. 

3 minutes later, the steaming mug of hot chocolate is ready, perhaps with a _little_ more cream and marshmallows added than she was really supposed to. Yaz places the mug onto a saucer, and the saucer onto a tray, along with the receipt, and calls the name, settling for Jolie over Jolene. It suits her better. The blonde jumps up enthusiastically, almost knocking her chair over in the process but managing to catch it at the last second. Yaz bites back a grin, settling for a polite smile instead as the other woman all but bounces up to the counter. 

“Oh, brilliant! Now _that_ is a proper hot chocolate! Thanks..erm, what’s your name?”

Yaz blinks in surprise. She hadn’t had a customer ask her name in a while, usually they would just smile and take their order back to their table.

“Oh, Yasmin. Yaz to my friends.”

“Well, nice to meet you, Yaz. I’m callin’ you Yaz, ‘cause you make excellent-looking hot chocolates, and that automatically counts you as a friend.”

Yaz feels heat rise into her cheeks, and can do nothing but offer a polite smile and a mumbled “you’re welcome” before she spins away from the blonde, busying herself with cleaning the not-at-all dirty coffee machine. 

* * *

Over the following couple of weeks, Yaz finds herself waiting eagerly for the blonde to turn up every morning for her hot chocolate and slice of cake. The tenth morning, she turns up balancing a stack of papers precariously in her arms, thankfully forgoing the trip over the threshold this time. She unceremoniously plonks the stack of papers down on the counter in front of Yaz, beaming and seemingly unaware of the fact that the paper tower is teetering, about to fall before Yaz reaches out and catches it at the last second. As she straightens the stack out, she sneaks a glance at the top page. 

_Jolene Elizabeth Smith. General Engineering. Individual Design Project._

Yaz breathes out a small huff as she takes in the information. So she’s a student. Engineering wouldn’t have been her first guess at her area of study, but now that she thinks about it, it suits her. Slightly haphazard and chaotic, but somehow it all works together. Now that she thinks about it, Ryan is doing engineering too. Yaz is snapped out of her thoughts by Jolie’s “ahh, thanks! I’ve already dropped that twice today, can’t risk a third.”

Yaz looks back at the other woman as a smirk dances across her lips, wondering how on earth she had managed to drop it twice already, given that it’s barely eight in the morning. 

“I’ll have my usual please, and I think I’ll go for the lemon cake today!”

“Coming right up.”

Once the blonde is settled at her table, happily sipping her hot chocolate and working her way through the slice of cake, Yaz can’t help but steal glances at her between customers. She’s taken her coat off, as usual, but today she’s opted for a more casual shirt and a pair of mustard-coloured braces over her usual patterned shirts. As much as Yaz is fond of routine and familiarity, she finds she very much doesn’t mind the change in attire. It’s a good look on her. 

Half an hour later, the blonde stands up to return her tray to the counter. Yaz had told her already that it wasn’t necessary, but she does it anyway, insisting it was the polite thing to do. Just as she was about to leave, Yaz calls out. “Erm, I forgot to ask the other day, did you get your custard creams?”

The blonde looks at her in confusion for a second, before she reconnects the dots in her head. “Oh, yes! Surprised you remembered. Went to the shop, bought like, 10 packets. I don’t want to experience a custard cream-less existence again, were a miserable 16 hours.” Yaz chuckles slightly at the image, before remembering she was at work, and regains her composure. 

“I’m glad,” she replies, smiling warmly at the blonde. “See you tomorrow?” she asks, a hopeful tint to her voice.

“Tomorrow!” the other woman confirms, bumping the edge of the door frame as she walks backwards out of the café. Yaz could swear she sees her shoot it a small disapproving frown, her nose scrunching up, before she spins around, making her way out of the door.

* * *

Tomorrow definitely doesn’t come as quickly as Yaz would have liked it too, and when she turns up a whole 10 minutes early and full of energy for her shift, Clara eyes her suspiciously. 

“What’s got into you? You’re never this chipper in the morning. Like, ever.”

Yaz blushes immediately, but once she realises Clara had never actually seen her interacting with Jolie, she relaxes slightly. “Not sure. Guess I’m just looking forward to the day, that’s all.”

Clara smiles, suspecting there was a little more to her best friend’s good mood than the mere prospect of the day ahead, but she bites her lip, not wanting to push her to share more than she’s willing to. 

“Mind grabbing that tray of brownies out of the middle oven for me, Yaz? Grace is running a few minutes late.”

“Sure,” Yaz replies, slipping on an oven glove before drawing the tray of gooey brownies from the oven. “I swear your brownies get better every time you make them.”

Clara’s laugh rings out loud and clear in the quiet of the otherwise empty café. “Hah! You must be in a good mood this morning, complementing me and everything!”

Yaz sticks her tongue out in response, before heading through the archway into the front of the café. Setting to work pulling chairs down from tables and setting out napkins and buckets of cutlery, she can’t help but consistently glance at the clock on the wall, willing it to move faster so she can see Jolie again.

When 8am rolls around and Jolie hasn’t appeared at the door, Yaz can’t help but feel a little disappointed. _Don’t be silly,_ she tells herself. _She’s just another customer._ That last utterance is a little less convincing. When the clock hits 8:10 and there’s still no sign of the energetic blonde, Yaz resigns to the fact that she probably won’t be seeing her today.

So, at 8:15, when the door all but bursts open and a very wind-swept Jolie stumbles over the threshold, Yaz finds it hard to hold back the grin that takes over her face. _God, reign it in a bit there, Yaz. You barely know her._ She settles for what she hopes is a bright and friendly, but not creepy, smile, as the blonde rushes towards the counter. 

“Bit blowy out there, isn’t it!”

Yaz nods in agreement, heading to the register to tap in her usual order while Jolie peruses the cakes on offer this morning. After confirming her choice of white chocolate and raspberry cake, the blonde slides her coins across to Yaz and peeks out from the lock of hair that’s fallen in front of her face shyly. “Erm, Yaz, I was - I was wondering if-” Jolie tries, stuttering over her words. Yaz smiles at kindly, allowing her the space to gather her thoughts while she sorts the coins into the register. 

Jolie’s words come out in a tumble, all at once. “Would you like to sit with me this morning?”

Yaz looks at the blonde, the expression on her face a mix of curiosity and surprise. _She wants to sit with me?_ Jolie hesitates slightly, realising it’s probably not a normal request to make.

“I just mean, you seem really nice and everything, and I’m probably gonna be here a lot, so I kinda want to get to know you a bit better? Only if that’s okay with you?” she rambles, letting out a deep breath at the end of her sentence. 

Yaz feels herself blushing in excitement and underlying nerves as she smiles back. Glancing into the kitchen behind her, she sees her coworker for the morning, Bill, walking in. Poking her head around the door to let Clara know she’s taking her break, she turns back to Jolie, who’s rocking on her toes in anticipation. “Yeah, I’ll take my break! I’ll just grab myself a coffee and I’ll be right with you.”

Jolie smiles back, picking up her tray and selecting her usual table by the window. A couple of minutes later, Yaz wanders over to join her, her tummy tying itself in knots. Goodness knows why, she wishes it wouldn't. She balances her coffee as she slides into the opposite chair, and notices that the blonde’s hands are fidgeting nervously on the table as Yaz sits down, her slice of cake untouched. 

“Sorry if this is weird. It’s just, I don’t really do too well at making friends, I’m a bit socially awkward, but you seemed really nice so I thought I would ask.”

Yaz shakes her head, shaking a sugar packet before pouring it into her coffee and stirring it. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m much the same, I’m glad you asked. Erm, why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself? You a student?”

The blonde smiles, relaxing into the conversation. “Yeah! I’m in my final year of my undergrad in general engineering. It’s so cool, if a little dangerous. But that’s what keeps it fun, I guess. What ‘bout you?”

Yaz notes the ways her features lit up when she started talking about engineering, and it’s obvious she’s clearly very passionate about it. Yaz finds it endearing, and has to force herself to answer the question before she gets carried away staring at the other woman. “Erm, I’m halfway through my undergrad in psychology. Taking a bit of time off though.”

Jolie nods enthusiastically, and Yaz is grateful she doesn’t further question _why_ she’s taking time off. “How did you end up working here, then?”

Yaz sets her coffee down, glancing towards the counter to make sure Bill is okay. Reassured by the mostly empty café, she turns back to Jolie. “My best friend, Clara, owns the place. When we were younger, she had always said that I could work in her café if I wanted to. So when she opened it, she asked me if I wanted a job here straight away. ‘Bout a year and a half ago now. It was the perfect distance between where I was living at the time, and uni, so of course I said yes.”

Jolie smiles warmly, her nose doing that adorable little scrunch again. “That’s so cool, I wish I had a friend who could bake. Does she make all these cakes?”

Yaz chuckles slightly. “Mostly, yeah. Our other chef, Grace helps too. She used to be a nurse but Clara hired her because she was bored in her retirement. Plus Clara and I went to primary school with her grandson, so she’s known us forever.”

Jolie’s brow furrows in concentration at the mention of Grace’s name. “Grace, she sounds familiar. What’s her surname?”

“O’Brian?”

Jolie throws her arms up in excitement, almost knocking her hot chocolate over in the process. “Oh! I do know Grace. I tutor her grandson sometimes. You know him?”

Yaz smiles broadly at their shared connection. “Yeah! As I said, we went to primary school together. We lost touch but became friends again when uni started and Grace started working here. He’s annoying as anything but we get along well.”

Jolie grins. “Now that, I can agree with.” Glancing at her watch, she sighs dejectedly, almost pouting. “I’m afraid I have to go. I got a meeting with my supervisor in 20 minutes, and I have _no idea_ where his office is.”

“I know that feeling all too well,” Yaz replies, chuckling at past memories of getting extremely lost in the never-ending identical corridors of the psychology building. Looking back up to the blonde, she catches sight of an ear cuff as she tucks her hair behind her ear. There’s a delicate gold chain, connecting a moon at her earlobe to a star at her helix. Realising she was staring, Yaz feels her own ears blush as she recollects her thoughts. “This was nice! Thanks for asking me to sit with you.”

Now it’s Jolie’s turn to blush, her hair falling forward as she reaches for her coat and backpack, hiding the earring once again. “Yeah, I enjoyed it. Erm, do you think we could maybe do it again tomorrow?” Even if Yaz had been opposed to the idea, the look in Jolie’s eyes was too sweet and hopeful for her to be able to say no. 

“Sure, as long as it’s quiet enough in here!”

Jolie positively radiates at the answer, before bouncing out the door with a cheery wave and a “laters!”

Yaz spends the rest of her shift in a bit of a dream state, it dawning on her that she actually likes the bubbly, chaotic engineering student. A wave of dread and uncertainty washes over her as she considers this is probably the start of a significant change to her identity. However, any of those feelings are quickly pushed down when she thinks of the pretty, sweet blonde who quite literally stumbled into her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh thank you for reading! I'm planning on updating this maybe once or twice a week? Anyway let me know what you think, and anything you might want me to work into the story! :)
> 
> Chapter title is a line from this song :) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=owcByOOOpa8
> 
> A playlist featuring all the songs from this fic can be found here https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0T2wY8WE7DwBZGH1Ui0agQ


	2. You're My Feet on the Ground, My Footprints

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jolie slides her change across the counter and is out the door before Yaz can muster up a witty response, or notice the little slip of paper mixed in with the coins. She’s about to throw it away when she notices purple ink ghosting through the paper, and her curiosity gets the better of her. Smoothing it out, she barely restrains a gasp when she reads the words scrawled on it in what she can only presume is Jolie’s handwriting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo second chapter! This chapter has a content warning for discussions of sexuality and coming out, but nothing too heavy! Enjoy :)
> 
> A playlist featuring all the songs from this fic can be found here https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0T2wY8WE7DwBZGH1Ui0agQ

Yaz picks up on a noticeable change in her mood over the next few weeks as she grows less and less opposed to the 5:30 alarm, if it means she gets to see Jolie every morning. By the time she’s been on the early shift for a month, she’s all but adapted to her new routine. 

The quiet mornings have given her plenty of time to think and reflect too. She’s smitten with the blonde, and she knows it. But she’s not sure if Jolie feels the same way about her. The process of accepting that fact for herself is easier than she had thought it might be, but she supposes it has always been in the back of her mind. Admitting that to other people though? A whole different matter.

* * *

  
  


The next week goes by without a hitch, Yaz pleased at the fact that the café is empty enough for her to sit with Jolie every morning and chat. The smells of coffee mixed with hot chocolate, Jolie’s scent (sugary and warm, sometimes with a hint of engine oil) and the warm atmosphere of the café work themselves into the nooks and crannies of Yaz’s brain, and she finds herself thinking about them often. At first they talk tentatively about themselves, and Yaz is content to learn a few facts about Jolie, given that she mostly ended up talking about herself that first day. She learns that she’s an only child, works at a dog shelter and that her favourite food is (unsurprisingly) custard creams. Once they’ve run out of things they’re willing to share about themselves however, they start talking about all manner of subjects. One morning had them in a heated debate about the existence of aliens, another concerning whether or not gravity was just one big conspiracy theory.

They’re well into October at this point, and the weather is definitely showing it. One particularly miserable Thursday morning, Yaz has to bite back a snort of laughter as she spots Jolie outside, losing the fight for her rainbow star dusted umbrella with the wind and rain blowing down the street. Deciding she might need a hand, she makes her way around from behind the counter and walks towards the door, holding it open for a very disheveled Jolie to make her way through as the smell of wet tarmac and petrol drifts through the door.

The blonde regards her in surprise, before smiling and slipping past her, brushing her soggy umbrella against Yaz’s arm in the process. As she makes her way back to the counter, she notes Jolie’s slightly tense demeanour and makes a mental note to ask if she’s okay once they’re sat down. Jolie peers at Yaz through a section of hair that’s fallen in front of her eyes. 

“Could I have it to take away today? And just the hot chocolate. Got another meeting that I’m kinda running late for. Again.” A smirk flits across her face at that last sentence, and Yaz grins back.

“Of course, can’t have you being late again. Okay, that’s just a pound then please.” 

Yaz watches in amusement as Jolie digs around in her coat pocket, before producing change, which she immediately drops onto the floor.

“You know, we have a card machine, it’s probably easier than loose change.”

Straightening up, she shoots a serious gaze at the brunette on the other side of the counter. 

“Oh, don’t trust those machines, me.”

“But, you’re an engineering student?”

“Yup. And that’s why I know not to trust them!”

Jolie slides her change across the counter and is out the door before Yaz can muster up a witty response, or notice the little slip of paper mixed in with the coins. She’s about to throw it away when she notices purple ink ghosting through the paper, and her curiosity gets the better of her. Smoothing it out, she barely restrains a gasp when she reads the words scrawled on it in what she can only presume is Jolie’s handwriting.

> _Do you think I could take you out sometime?_

_That’s why she was so nervous. At least I know she feels the same way now …_ Yaz only realises she’s still staring at the paper in her hands until Clara sneaks up behind her, leaning in to read the writing, letting out an over-exaggerated gasp. “You got asked out?!” she whisper-yells, incredulous.

“Clara!” Yaz hisses. “Not so loud!”

Clara hops up and down on the spot, all professionalism abandoned as she considers that her best friend might have just been asked out in _her_ café. 

“Sorry. Did you just get that? Oh! Are they still here?”

“Yes, I just got it, and no, they just left. They passed it over with their change and then bolted. I think they were nervous”

Clara wiggles her eyebrows mischievously. “Ooh. And it wasn’t just some random, right? Like, you actually know this person?”

Yaz turns to face her best friend properly now. “Yes, I do. They’re in here regularly, and we’ve been talking a lot. Just, _please_ don’t make this into a big thing. Okay?”

Clara nods in understanding, spinning around to practically skip back to the kitchen. Yaz rolls her eyes, turning back to the front to serve the next customer, but her mind is filled with thoughts of custard creams, rainbow stars and short blonde hair.

* * *

  
  


That evening at home, Yaz turns the thought over and over in her head, restlessly pacing around her room. Sitting on the bed, the floor, standing up, staring out the window, back on her bed again. She likes Jolie, she knows that much. She’s funny, bright and kind. And pretty. Like, really pretty. Yaz _wants_ to say yes to the date, but past experiences held her back. She hasn’t even considered dating yet, it hasn't even been a year. She knows she’s going to have to tell Clara about it, but given that she doesn’t even have it all figured out herself yet, she doesn't know how to tell her, and it’s terrifying. Not that she would judge, but Yaz is nauseous at the thought all the same. 

Eventually, she picks up her phone, finding her messages with Clara easily. 

> **are you going to be in early tomorrow? i want to talk to you about something x**

She drops her phone back on the bed beside her, flopping back into the pillows. She’s too anxious to really do anything else with her evening, so settles for an early night of Netflix in bed. After changing into her pyjamas and grabbing her laptop, slipping under her duvet, she’s only 10 minutes into _Mamma Mia_ when her phone buzzes on the bedside table next to her. 

> **Sure. You okay until then though? x**

Yaz smiles at her best friend’s understanding and concern. 

> **yeah, thanks for checking x**

Yaz turns her phone off, settling into the comfort of a warm and fluffy bed to enjoy an evening to herself, her mind drifting to thoughts of responding to Jolie’s proposition.

* * *

Early the next morning, Yaz slips into the back of the café, smoothing her hands nervously over her jeans. The familiar sight of Clara in the kitchen pulling out her ingredients for the morning is comforting and she shuffles in, slipping onto one of the stools at the central counter. Clara turns around, smiling warmly as she sets down a stack of mixing bowls.

“Morning!” Then, taking in Yaz’s anxious face and fidgeting hands, “You okay? What was it you wanted to talk to me about?”

Yaz takes a shaky breath, and her voice comes out barely above a whisper. “Erm, it’s about the date thing. I’ve decided I’m gonna accept it, but there’s something you should probably know about who it was.”

Clara nods. “That’s great, Yaz! As long as you’re happy with it. But who is it?

Yaz stumbles over her words, trying to catch her breath. Reaching out, Clara places a hand over Yaz’s shaking ones, squeezing gently but allowing her the space to collect herself and her words. 

“She’s- she’s called Jolie. She comes in here every morning. She’s really nice. I was- I was just scared to tell you that she was well … a she.”

Clara is around the other side of the counter and has enveloped her best friend in a fierce hug before she can even realise what’s happening. Yaz wraps her arms around Clara in return, the warmth and safety of her best friend a comfort. She feels a few stray happy tears escape as she buries her face into Clara’s shoulder. Pulling back, she looks her best friend in the eye. 

“So I’m guessing you’re okay with this, then?”

Clara reaches forward to cup Yaz’s face in her hands. “Yazzy, of course I am. Why did you think I wouldn’t be?”

She sniffs, giggling at Clara’s childhood nickname for her. “I dunno, you just had everything figured out when we were 15. I’ve only _just_ worked this out, I don’t even know what sexuality I identify with.”

Clara sighs, her face full of empathy and understanding. “Yaz, that doesn’t matter. Do you not remember how many labels I went through? It’s normal, you don’t have to figure everything out straight away, okay?”

Yaz nods, smiling. “Just … I haven’t told anyone else yet. So, erm, please don’t say anything.”

“Of course not. That’s your thing. I’m here for you though, yeah?”

She laughs softly, most of her tension escaping in the sound. “Thanks. Thanks for … thanks for letting me tell you.”

“Of course. Okay but I have to ask… how are you going to tell her yes?”

Yaz’s eyes shine as she launches nervously into an explanation of her plan.

* * *

Once the café opens at 7:30, Yaz finds herself checking the clock between every customer, and glances at the door anxiously every time she hears the bell ring. Finally, at 8:13, the bell on the door rings and Jolie walks in, a nervous smile on her face. Yaz sneaks her hand into her back pocket, retrieving a slip of paper and sliding it beside the register.

Jolie walks up to the counter, her nose scrunching up in that adorable fashion, and Yaz feels her belly flutter. “Hi! Which cake will it be today?”

Jolie ducks her head shyly. “Erm, coconut, please.”

Yaz shakes her head at the choice, definitely not one she would make. Turning around to make the hot chocolate, she grabs the slip of paper, checking over it for the millionth time. Printed in her neat handwriting, the dark blue ink stands out against the white paper. 

> _How could I say no? Here’s my phone number, that might be helpful_
> 
> _072958285829_

As she places the hot chocolate on the saucer, she slips the note under the edge of a mug before calling Jolie over to hand off the order. Yaz waits with bated breath as the blonde retrieves her hot chocolate, and then sits down at her table. Yaz watches as a quizzical look passes over Josie’s face when she spots the paper, then a bright grin spreads over her face when she reads it. 

Jolie turns to face the girl she’s going to take on a date, and, her brain not quite working properly, settles for a combination of a wink and a goofy thumbs up, which has Yaz giggling like a teenager in glee.

* * *

That evening, Yaz is lounging on the sofa, watching a movie with her family and suspiciously eyeing how close Sonya’s feet are to her face when her phone lights up next to her, displaying a new message from an unknown number.

> **Hiya! Jolie here. I really hope this is Yaz’s phone and I’m not just texting some random :)**

Yaz chuckles softly, excusing herself from the film before heading to her bedroom so she can continue the conversation with a little more room to think.

> **yup, this is yaz. i’m glad you texted me**

It’s another few minutes before a new message comes through, but the pair soon fall into an easy rhythm of texting back and forth.

> **Jolie: Ah, brilliant. Did you enjoy the rest of your day? :)**
> 
> **Yaz: i did, thanks. you?**
> 
> **Jolie: I did too. But, are you still up for this date thing? :)**
> 
> **Yaz: for sure. did you have anything in mind?**
> 
> **Jolie: Actually, I did. Are you free on Saturday evening? :)**
> 
> **Yaz: yup, i’ve got the weekend off**
> 
> **Jolie: Brilliant. Would you be able to meet me at the roller rink beside the big B &Q at 6:30? :)**

Yaz laughs at the blonde’s choice of date location. It’s very _her_ , and honestly preferable to an awkward dinner in a unoriginal restaurant.

> **Yaz: that sounds great. it’s a date :)**

* * *

That Saturday afternoon, Yaz heads round to Clara’s. She’s chosen not to tell her parents about the date, simply informing them that she was spending the evening at Clara’s and would probably be home late, to not wait up. It wasn’t strictly a lie, and besides, Clara knows exactly where she’s going and who she’s going with. 

Upon arriving, she’s greeted by her best friend's infectious good mood and the smell of cookie dough, and it helps to relieve her nerves just a little bit. 

Kicking her shoes off and hanging up her coat, she follows Clara into the kitchen, where a plate of fresh cookies is immediately shoved under her nose. Yaz laughs, accepting one and biting into the still-warm chocolate chip goodness.

“Do you ever stop baking?”

Clara smiles mischievously, “Nope, don’t think so. Besides, it’s just after three, which you’ve insisted is afternoon snack time since we were 6, so you really can’t complain.”

“True true,” Yaz replies, flopping down on the sofa. “So, no Danny?”

Clara smiles at the mention of her boyfriend of three years. “No, he’s gone to the match with some mates and then I think they’re heading out for drinks afterwards. “

“Could we maybe watch some TV for a bit?”

Clara settles down beside her, understanding Yaz’s nerves. “Sure. How does Gilmore Girls sound?”

“Gilmore Girls sounds perfect.”

* * *

After an hour and a half and two episodes, Yaz decides it’s time to start getting ready for her date. Shifting from the sofa, the pair head to Clara’s bedroom, and Yaz locates the clothes she brought with her to change into. She’d settled earlier for a pair of skinny jeans, dark green blouse adorned with small white petals, and a leather jacket. She’s a little doubtful of her choices now though, and once she’s slipped into the outfit, she turns to Clara for her opinion.

“Yaz, that’s great. It’s very you.”

“Are you sure it’s not too much?”

“No, it’s perfect. It looks like you’ve put effort into it, but not too much. Now, would you like me to do your makeup? Nothing crazy, just something subtle.”

Yaz nods at Clara’s question, settling cross-legged on the bed while Clara settles opposite her, practically fizzing with excitement at the rare opportunity of Yaz actually letting her do her makeup. 

20 minutes later, Yaz’s makeup is done, and Clara has kept to her promise. Leaning back to admire her handiwork, Clara can’t help but think that her best friend looks _gorgeous._ Getting up to look in the mirror, Yaz turns to her with a nervous smile on her face.

“Thank you, really. I think my hands are shaking too much for me to have been able to do it myself.”

“It’s no problem,” Clara replies, organising the makeup back into Yaz’s bag. As she goes to start twisting her hair into its usual braids, Clara reaches out a hand to stop her. 

“For the record, I think you should leave your hair loose.”

Turning around with a quizzical look on her face, Yaz looks at Clara questioningly. “Why..?”

“Well, you always have it up at work, she’s never seen you with it down. Plus, it frames your face nicely.”

Yaz turns back to the mirror, huffing softly as she considers the option. “Hmm, you make a good point.”

Clara places her hands on her best friend’s shoulders to turn her around gently to face her. “Yazzy, you’ve got this, okay?” she affirms gently, squeezing her shoulders for good measure. “Jolie wouldn’t have asked you out if she didn’t want to go on a date with you? And from the way you talk about her, you really like her too. It’s just going to be like every morning you’ve sat together in the café, just … not in the café.”

Yaz nodded, taking a steadying breath. “Yeah. I’m just terrible at roller blading.”

Clara laughed. “Okay, yeah. That, you are. But hey, that’ll just make it more fun! Now, I think we have time for some pizza before you have to go.”

* * *

It’s twenty past six when Yaz arrives outside the roller rink, cursing herself for being early. She hates being first for things. Resigning herself to anxious fidgeting while she stands on the path just down from the entrance, she can’t help glancing around for a sight of the blonde. Thankfully, a couple of minutes later her phone buzzes, and she draws it from her back pocket, seeing a text from Jolie.

> **Hiya! I should be there in a couple of minutes, coming from over the river! :)**

Yaz smiles at the reassurance.

> **no worries, i’m just waiting by the main entrance**

5 minutes later, she spies Jolie crossing the road opposite her. When the blonde spots her, she raises her hand in an energetic wave, and Yaz can’t help but smile. 

“Sorry I’m a tad late, got a bit lost. I’m pretty sure this city is producing new streets.”

Yaz laughs, tucking her hair behind her ear nervously as she looks at Jolie properly. She’s opted for navy-blue slacks, and a crisp white shirt tucked into them and a pair of bright yellow braces. Her hair is pulled back into a low ponytail and Yaz can see her ear cuff properly now and the light from the streetlamp they’re standing under makes it sparkle. She’s also wearing a pair of round, black-rimmed glasses, which Yaz decides is absolutely not fair. She looks both elegant, and absolutely adorable. 

She’s snapped out of her haze by Jolie’s voice. “I like your hair down, it really suits you.”

“Oh,” Yaz stutters, shyly tucking it behind her ears again. “Thanks. I wish I could wear it down more often, but, you know, work.”

Jolie nods in understanding. “Yup. I’m always getting told off in the workshop for not tying mine back, but it’s short! Besides, it’s only been _minorly_ set on fire twice. Wait, no. Three times.”

Yaz is taken aback by the last remark, laughing at the image. Although honestly, she’s not that surprised. “I like your glasses,” she counters, smiling warmly.

“Ahh thanks! Eyes were tired of my contacts, thought I would give them a rest.”

They stand awkwardly for a couple of seconds, until Jolie breaks the silence. “Should we head in then?”

Yaz nods, holding open the door to let Jolie walk in past her, the noise and bustle of the roller rink rushing through the doors. Once they’ve both acquired roller skates, Jolie stands up confidently but Yaz stays rooted to the bench. “Erm, Jolie. _Probably_ should have mentioned this earlier, but I kinda can’t roller skate. Like, really can’t.”

Jolie laughs, before extending her hands to Yaz. “Well, luckily I can, so I can teach you.”

Yaz looks at her before accepting her hands and standing up, wobbling slightly but righting herself before she loses too much of her dignity. “ _You_ can roller skate?”

Jolie grins, a look of mock-offence flitting across her face. “Hey, I know what you’re thinking, that someone as clumsy as me couldn’t possibly be any good at this. Did it a lot as a kid though, felt like I was flying. My granny taught me, she was a bit eccentric. Not to say I haven’t had my fair share of accidents, however.”

Yaz smiles back, shuffling forward towards the rink gingerly, gripping onto the blonde for dear life while the other woman effortlessly skates backwards. Yaz catches sight of her hands wrapped firmly around Jolie’s cool, slender wrists and swallows nervously. _They’re holding hands._ Well sort of, but close enough. 

She only realises they’ve reached the actual rink because the floor beneath her feet is suddenly a lot slippier and she lurches forwards, grabbing onto the wall to regain her balance. Jolie is a little way ahead of her, but skates back towards Yaz, realising she probably left her stranded. “Want me to teach you?” she asks, her head tilted slightly to the side and her nose scrunching up.

“Erm, I guess,” Yaz replies, still clinging to the top of the wall encircling the rink.

“Okay, well you might need to let go of the wall for that,” Jolie teases, extending her hands again, which Yaz takes gratefully. Her skin is cool and smooth, and it sends sparks up Yaz’s forearms. “Okay, so you just want to put one foot forward, and kinda push outwards, then follow through with the other foot, same action.” Jolie has to hold back a snort as Yaz’s legs get away from her. “Okay, not _that_ far, or you’ll end up doing the splits. Try again, but more gently.” Josie’s grin is almost audible as Yaz successfully glides forwards, albeit shakily. “There you go!” Yaz grins back at her, a wave of happiness washing over her. 

* * *

An hour and only two embarrassing falls later, their allotted time on the rink is up, and they regretfully hand back over their skates. Spotting the diner-like area over in the corner, Jolie’s face lights up. “Fancy some chips?” Yaz nods in agreement, and they amble towards the counter. It’s busy and they’re forced to stand close to each other, shoulders bumping and hands brushing together every so often. The cacophony of noises and smells and lights sets Yaz a little on edge, but the involuntary touches are a welcome distraction, something to focus on. It’s silly really, they’ve basically just been holding hands for the last hour, but Yaz jumps a little every time, Jolie’s touch tingling and warming her skin. 

When they eventually get to the counter and order their portions of chips, Jolie insists on paying for them, given that it was her idea in the first place. As they sit down at one of the only available tables, Yaz watches in disbelief as her date proceeds to add the concoction of ketchup, mustard, salt and vinegar to her portion. 

“You’re seriously adding all that to your chips?” She asks as Jolie pops the first one into her mouth.

“Mmhmm. Gotta get all the flavour combos possible.”

Yaz just shakes her head and laughs, settling for the standard salt and ketchup. 

“No mustard?” Jolie asks, a despondent look on her face.

“No offence, but mustard is awful. It’s worse that my dad’s pakora, and he’s _terrible_ at pakora.”

* * *

When they’re finished chatting and eating, they head out into the chilly October night air. Jolie turns to look at her, shy and awkward again. “I had fun this evening.”

Yaz smiled. “Me too, I’m glad we did this. So, erm, which way are you headed?”

“Up towards the Holiday Inn, on the river, I live just down from it. Stonehome Flats?”

“Oh, yeah! I’m just at Park Hill Flats. We could walk that way together, if you like?”

“I think I would like that very much, Yasmin Khan,” Jolie replies, as they set off walking in the direction of that part of the city. They’re not far into the walk when the blonde can sense her date fidgeting anxiously by her side. “You okay?” she asks, her voice sounding what she hopes is concerned, but not too overbearing.

Yaz turns to look at her. “Erm, would you mind if I held your hand?” she enquires shyly, with a hint of a tremble to her voice.

Jolie replies by slipping her hand into Yaz’s, giving it a squeeze as their fingers weave together. “Yaz, we’ve been holding hands for a great deal of the evening. Of course I don’t mind. Quite nice, actually.” This time, it’s the blonde’s turn to be shy, a slight blush creeping into her cheeks despite the chill in the air.

“Why a roller rink?” Yaz asks, a couple of minutes later.

Jolie barely ponders over her answer. “Standard first dates are so _boring._ Restaurants and movies? Only one activity for the whole time, and you’re supposed to sit still? No thanks, would rather have fun.”

Yaz laughs out loud, her eyes sparkling. “Honestly, you’re right. Although are you sure it maybe didn’t have a little something to do with your supreme roller skating skills, and my significant lack of them?” Yaz giggles, a teasing lilt to her voice.

“Okay, _maybe,”_ Jolie huffs. “Although, in my defence, I didn’t know you were going to be that bad.”

“Hey!” Yaz retorts indignantly. “I wasn’t a complete disaster, I was mostly doing it by myself at the end!”

Jolie simply laughs in return, giving Yaz’s hand a light squeeze, which she returns happily. Before they realise it, they’ve arrived outside Yaz’s block of flats, and she turns towards her date regretfully. “So, this is me.”

“Yup, this is you.”

“I had fun tonight. I would like to do this again sometime,” Yaz admits, a hopeful twinge to her voice.

“Me too,” Jolie replies, her smile bright and warm and happy. “I definitely think we should do this again.”

They stand like that for a moment longer, their fingers still intertwined in the space between them. 

“So, I guess this is goodnight, Yasmin Khan.”

“Indeed it is, Jolene Smith. Text me to let you know you got home fine.” Yaz’s next move is bold, but it feels right as she leans up slightly and presses a gentle kiss against the corner of Jolie’s lips, before turning and walking towards the lift, leaving Jolie standing there with a goofy grin on her face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh thank you for reading! This chapter was definitely not based off your author's lack of skating skills and her friend trying and failing to teach her to ice skate, not at all...
> 
> Anyway! Chapter title is from this song! https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Bl19rs22WMU


	3. Speaking Words I Needed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jolie plonks herself down on one of the sofas, dragging several notebooks, a galaxy-print water bottle, a pencil case designed to look like a can of pringles, and a packet of custard creams out of her bag. She really isn’t joking about her love for custard creams, Yaz muses as she selects an armchair next to the sofa, sinking into it. Yaz smiles at her date as she flicks through her notebook, her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth slightly as she does so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, third chapter, and a bit of a heftier one this time! A few TW for this chapter, if you want to know a summary without having to read, feel free to drop me a message on tumblr over @emmyphant and I can summarise the chapter for you!
> 
> TW for panic attack  
> TW for mentions of past domestic abuse

Yaz is glad to have the next day off, because she’s not sure she would be able to concentrate if she were at work. It isn’t helped by the barrage of texts from Clara, demanding to know every tiny detail of the date. Eventually giving in, Yaz FaceTimes her, settling cross-legged onto her bed and grinning when her best friend’s excited face appears on her phone. 

_ “Hiya!”  _ Clara practically yells through the screen, a grin splitting her face. 

Yaz laughs. “Hey! How’s it going?”

_ “Okay. Danny’s a tad hungover and is being a total drama queen about it, as usual. But I should be really asking you that question.”  _ Clara teases, wiggling her eyebrows in insinuation.

“Hah. Tell Danny that I still stand by the statement that no alcohol is the best approach to life. But, erm, yeah, I’m good.”

Clara laughs in response to the comment about her boyfriend, but then her face softens.  _ “Just good? Or, ‘I’m saying I’m good to appear chilled when in fact I feel like I’m going to explode’ kinda good?” _

Yaz huffs, she should have known Clara would see straight through her. “Okay, the second one. It was amazing, Clara. She was so nice and kind and considerate and she looked so gorgeous… I don’t know how to describe it, except from really,  _ really _ good.”

Clara grins back.  _ “Told ya!”  _ she teases, which earns an eye roll and a sigh from Yaz. “ _ No, but seriously mate, I’m so happy you enjoyed yourself so much. Although I have to ask, how many times did you fall on your butt?” _

“Only, two I swear!” Yaz smirks before looking down, picking at a loose thread in the bottom of her leggings. “Although it probably would have been more if I weren’t holding her hands most of the time.”

“ _ You held hands?!”  _ Clara echoes back, incredulously.  _ “How did you fail to mention that?” _

Yaz looks up. “You never asked! She  _ may _ have also walked me home too, when we also held hands.”

_ “Woah,”  _ Clara breathes.  _ “So it definitely wasn’t a bummer of a date then?” _

“No,” Yaz replies, shaking her head. “Not at all. I erm...I even kinda kissed her at the end.”

_ “Yaz!! What do you mean, kind of kissed her?” _

“Well, it wasn’t like, a proper kiss, but it was nice. Well, more than nice, but you know what I mean.”

Clara giggled, and it was like they were teenagers again.  _ “There’s more to you than meets the eye, isn’t there? Okay, now can you  _ **_please_ ** _ tell me more about her.” _

“Well, she studies engineering, she’s in her final year. And she wears this really pretty ear cuff most of the time, and she needs glasses, but she usually wears contacts. She looks  _ really  _ good in her glasses though. She’s really energetic and funny and considerate.”

_ “You’re taken with her, aren’t you?”  _ she teases.

Yaz nods, but there’s a flicker of doubt in her features. It was subtle, but a best friend of 16 years could easily spot it.

_ “Yaz, what’s wrong?”  _ she asks gently, giving her best friend a look of concern.

“I...I don’t know. I think I’m … scared. And I feel guilty. She’s the first person I’ve really gotten to know since, you know, him. I dunno, it was easy when we were just friends, and the date was amazing, but there’s just this horrible sense of, this horrible sense of dread now. Like I don’t deserve to be this happy, like I’m the one who messes things up and I’m going to hurt her.”

_ “Yasmin Khan, that’s a complete lie.” _

“What?!” she replies, incredulous.

_“Listen, I’m going to be frank with you here, because I think that’s what you need right now. You were comfortable talking to her as a friend, and that’s great. I’ve never seen you be that open and carefree with someone new before,_ ** _especially_** _since him. I think you really like her, and you trust her. But you’re scared because you know that if this continues, you’re going to have to tell her, and that’s the first time you’ve had complete control over that. Am I right?”_

Yaz stared at her lap, before giving a small nod. Of course Clara was right. She was scared, really scared, but she so desperately wanted to make this work between her and Jolie. She had fallen hard for her, and this time it was different. She was completely at ease around her, Jolie had never once made her feel uncomfortable or embarrassed or a lesser person than her.

_ “I know you’re scared, Yaz. But that’s okay, it’s natural to be scared. And as cliché as it sounds, you have to listen to your heart. Do you want to be with her, do you see a future there? Because if you do, you have to accept that it’s not going to be easy, it’s going to be really bloody hard, but if you really do want to do this, you’re going to have to face that fear. Okay?” _

Yaz nods, pushing tears of built-up frustration and confusion from her eyes. “Why are you always so right?” she laughs weakly, picking at her sleeve again.

_ “Eh, I’m pretty sure I’ve had more than one life,” _ Clara quips in return.  _ “Besides, I’m here to help you, whenever you need.” _

They eventually cut off the call an hour later, Yaz happy and warm inside, significantly calmer and more at ease with the myriad of emotions and feelings that had been crashing through her since she got home last night. It isn’t long before her belly starts to rumble though, so she pulls herself up reluctantly from the comfort of her fluffy blanket, in search of lunch.

* * *

Her mum is sitting in the kitchen when she wanders in, and immediately clocks the wistful look to her daughter’s face. “Hi, beti. Were you chatting to Clara?”

Yaz nods, reaching into the fridge and searching for something that didn’t require preparation. “Yeah, it was a good catch up.”

Najia looks at her quizzically. “But, you were just at her flat last night! Not talk enough then?”

Yaz starts, her mind racing again. She couldn’t tell her mum that she’d been on a date with a woman yet, no way . Besides, any mention of a date and her mum would go into full-on interrogation mode. “We ended up watching movies mostly. Then she rang me this morning to poke fun at Danny being hungover, and we didn’t stop.”

Najia laughs. “Honestly, I don’t think you two would ever stop talking if it were possible. You’ve always been like that.”

Yaz simply smiles. “Yeah, you’re probably right.”

Taking advantage of the unusually warm October day, she takes her food out onto their small balcony, or as she and Sonya used to call it, the ‘balconette’. She pulls out her phone to scroll through Instagram as she eats, but spots a message on her screen from Jolie. Her face lights up as she opens it, a comfortable warmth settling in her belly.  _ Man, Clara really was right. _

> **Jolie: [link]**
> 
> **Jolie: Hiya! Hope I’m not texting you too soon (even though I did when I got home last night) but I saw this video of a cute goat and I had to send it to you. :)**
> 
> **Jolie: Honestly, I think the whole ‘waiting a certain amount of time to text someone after a date’ thing is kinda dumb. Why talk to the person less if you like them? Anyway, I’ll stop spamming you now, I tend to never stop talking when I’m in a good mood :)**

Yaz opens the video and laughs as the clumsy goat pops up on the screen. She watches the video a couple of times before swiping away from it to reply to Jolie. 

> **Yaz: I love it. And I agree on the texting rule, there’s really no point**
> 
> **Yaz: I’m glad you’re in a good mood, me too**

* * *

Yaz wakes up before her alarm on Monday morning, fizzing with excitement at seeing Jolie again, but with an underlying layer of anxiety, she notices with disappointment. Determined to not let it get to her, she drags herself out of bed, making sure to take the morning slowly and steadily so as not to heighten her anxiety further.  _ You like her, and you have control over this,  _ she repeats to herself in an attempt to quell her racing nerves.

She repeats it in her head the whole walk there, and by the time she arrives at the cafe for her shift, her nerves have mostly disappeared, and she walks into the kitchen with a huge grin on her face.

“Someone’s in a good mood this morning!” Clara quips. “Wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain short-sighted blonde, would it now?”

Yaz rolls her eyes. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Hmm, maybe maybe. But I’m glad she makes you happy. Although, how are you two going to work this?” Clara asks, her eyes shining

“We’ve decided that we’re going to still sit and chat for half an hour or so every morning, and go on an actual date once a week or so. See where it goes.”

“Hmm, so a lot of talking,” Clara teases, taking a sip of tea from her mug.

“Hey! Besides, I don’t think she would ever stop talking if she were given the chance.”

* * *

  
  


Over that morning’s coffee, they talk about how sharks are highly misunderstood and are actually quite cute. Tuesday, they debate about why hamsters are such popular pets. Wednesday, Jolie chats about her classes. 

“I would love to see what you’re working on some time,” Yaz confesses.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I have no idea what you’ll be talking about, but I’d like to see anyway,” Yaz smiles in what she hopes is a reassuring manner.

“Well, I was actually planning to go to the library on Friday afternoon, my last lecture has been cancelled. You could come with, we could get something to eat afterwards?”

Yaz grins unashamedly. “Jolene Smith, are you asking me on another date?”

“I might be,” the blonde says, a blush creeping up her neck.

“Excellent, it’s a date then.”

* * *

Back at home that evening, Yaz can’t sleep. Her mind is racing with doubts again. 

_ Maybe she doesn’t like you as much as you thought she did. A library is barely a date, she’s just being polite. _

_ But she seemed genuinely excited. And we already know she’s not one for doing things conventionally. _

_ Can hardly get to know each other at a library though, can you? _

_ It’ll just be nice to spend time with her, stop making this into something it’s not, Khan. _

* * *

  
  


That following afternoon, Yaz is anxiously watching the clock for 3pm to come around so she can go to the library and meet Jolie. Picking up on her antsy temperament, Clara lets her go a few minutes earlier, and she swears she’s never seen her best friend leave a shift so fast before. 

To Yaz’s surprise, Jolie is standing waiting for her as she walks round the corner, standing holding two paper cups. “Hi! I got you a coffee,” she says, extending it towards Yaz nervously. 

Yaz smiles, accepting it gratefully. “Aww, thanks! I appreciate it.” The pair stand there awkwardly for a few seconds before Jolie snaps her fingers, making Yaz jump slightly.

“Right! Library. Thought we could head to the public library rather than the uni one. Don’t actually need any books or anything, just a quiet space. Sound okay?”

Yaz takes a sip of the coffee and nods, noting that Jolie must have remembered how she has it. They set off in the direction of the library, and Yaz guesses it would be an almost 10 minute walk. It’s not long before Jolie slips her hand into the brunette’s, and Yaz turns to grin at her.

“This okay?” Jolie inquires, biting her bottom lip nervously.

“More than okay,” Yaz smiles back. “So, what are you planning on working on at the library?”

“Some more concept sketches of my individual project. I’m still not fully settled on what I want to do yet. Too many ideas bouncing around in my head, need to get them out on paper.”

Yaz nods thoughtfully. “I’d love to see them,” she replies.

Jolie’s face lights up at Yaz’s admission. “Really?”

“Of course! I think it’s cool. Well, you’re cool and smart for studying that - wait - I meant, I meant you’re cool and smart regardless,” Yaz blurts out, blushing and staring at the ground awkwardly.

“You okay there?” Jolie teases.

“Mmhmm,” Yaz nods, still refusing to look up.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been referred to as ‘cool’. Although, for the record, I think you’re pretty cool too,” Jolie retorts, gently bumping her shoulder against Yaz’s.

Yaz breathes out in a sudden burst of amusement. “You still think I’m cool after that roller skating date?”

“Oh absolutely. The coolest,” Jolie bounces back quickly. Their talk is quick and easy, and it’s a comfort to Yaz. She hasn’t felt this at ease around someone new to her in a long time.

* * *

The wind is starting to pick up by the time they get to the library, and they’re glad of the blast of warm air that hits them when they enter the building. Yaz vaguely remembers coming to storytimes and book clubs here when she was a kid, but she hasn’t really been much since then. It’s big, really, big, and Yaz has no idea where to even start. Thankfully, Jolie seems to have a clear idea of where she wants to sit, and drags her towards the stairs.

“Top floor is the best. Nice and quiet and good comfy sofas,” she explains without Yaz even having to ask where they’re going.

Once they’re on the top floor, she makes a beeline for a small sitting area in the corner and Yaz follows. Jolie plonks herself down on one of the sofas, dragging several notebooks, a galaxy-print water bottle, a pencil case designed to look like a can of pringles, and a packet of custard creams out of her bag.  _ She really isn’t joking about her love for custard creams _ , Yaz muses as she selects an armchair next to the sofa, sinking into it. Yaz smiles at her date as she flicks through her notebook, her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth slightly as she does so.

“Can I show you what I have so far?” Jolie asks, snapping Yaz out of her subconscious staring.

“Sure. I might not understand but feel free to try and explain it to me anyway.”

Jolie needs little encouragement to launch into a detailed explanation of her various sketches and notes covering the pages of her notebook.

“So, which one is your favourite?” Josie asks nervously. 

“Can I?” Yaz asks, reaching for the notebook.

Jolie nods and Yaz moves it into her lap, turning the pages carefully until she finds the one she’s looking for. “I like this one,” she states, holding up the pad of paper so Jolie can see which page she’s landed on.

“Oh, the greenhouse one. Don’t have a name for it yet,” she states in excitement, scrunching her nose up at the lack of a name.

“Eh, doesn’t matter. I like the idea though. My Nani would like this, I reckon. She loves gardening, but her memory and her arthritis get in the way of it now.”

Jolie nods. “That’s exactly what I wanted to do with that. Make sure everyday hobbies like gardening are still accessible.”

Yaz smiles warmly. “I know I don’t really know anything about engineering, but I would say that’s the one.”

Jolie grins and flips to a clean page of the notebook, her pencil flying across the page as she sketches and scribbles away.  _ She’s sticking her tongue out again _ , Yaz notes to herself, smiling at how cute she looks when she’s focused. 

Eventually, Yaz decides she should probably stop staring at Jolie as she works, and gets up in search of something to read. She wanders the shelves until she locates the Young Adult section and browses over the shelves. She’s read a lot of the books, she realises, but eventually finds a few she hasn’t read and look like they might be up her alley. She’s musing over the blurbs of the three books she’s picked up when a small group of teenage girls come into the same aisle as Yaz, whispering excitedly among themselves. Her breath catches in the back of her throat when she realises that her only exit from this particular row of shelves has been blocked by a group that she’d rather not interact with, despite the fact that they’re at least 5 years younger than her.

Staring at the books in her hands, Yaz turns them over and over to try and distract herself.  _ Easy, Khan. _ When she looks up again, the girls have disappeared. Her heart is still racing and she’s sweating slightly, her hands shaking Yaz makes a swift exit, hurrying back towards where Jolie is sitting on the sofas, still engrossed in her project. 

She tries and tries to concentrate on the book, but it’s impossible. The library is quiet, too quiet. Quiet enough that every little sound is amplified in her head, all of them yelling ‘oi, listen to me!’ The ticking of a clock, Jolie’s pencil against the paper, a keyboard somewhere.

_ Out! _

Yaz tries to push the voice in her head away.  _ It’s just a library, nothing bad can happen _ , she tries to convince herself, but if her breathing and the way she’s continuing to shake and sweat are anything to go by, she’s failing.

_ Out out out! _

She’s on her feet and they’re carrying her towards the stairs before she can register what she’s doing. She thinks she mumbles something to Jolie about being too hot or needing some air or being back in a minute, but she’s not entirely sure.

Yaz bolts towards the exit, and her feet carry her round the side of the building, stumbling over an uneven paving stone as she goes. She leans heavily towards the side of the building, slowly sliding down it until she’s sitting on the ground.

What’s the breathing thing she was supposed to do? There are numbers and a pattern, but she can’t remember it.

_ Hah, you’re useless. You can’t even remember something that simple _ .

Yaz draws her knees closer to her chest, hugging them tight. 

When a hand lands on her knee, she jumps so violently she feels her stomach lurch. She curls in herself even further on instinct, turning her face away from the source of the touch.

“Yaz?” After a long pause, the voice changes to sound concerned and slightly frightened. “Yaz, are you okay?”

She looks up at the source of the voice, and sure enough Jolie is crouched down next to her, a look of concern and empathy on her face.

Yaz shakes her head violently.  _ No no no, she can’t see this, she can’t.  _ She tries to get up and move away, but the lack of feeling in her legs keep her stubbornly stuck in one spot.

When she dares look back at Jolie again, her face is frightened, and a wave of guilt is added to the layers of emotions already settled like lead in her belly.

_ She’s going to leave you here, you’ve scared her away. _

To her surprise, Jolie starts moving her hand ever so slowly to place on Yaz’s knee again. Yaz watches it intently, her eyes burning holes into the blonde’s skin. When the hand reaches her knee, she instinctively reaches for it, gripping it tightly in an effort to ground herself to something solid, something real.

Yaz didn’t notice her pull her phone out of her back pocket, fingers flying across the screen surprisingly quickly considering Yaz still has one hand in an iron-like grip.

“Breathing. In for four, out for seven counts?”

Yaz nods mutely.  _ How did she know that? _

“Do you want me to count?”

Another nod.

Jolie counts rhythmically, her hand still on Yaz’s knee, her thumb rubbing gently. Yaz tries her best to concentrate on the grounding feeling of Jolie’s hand on her knee, and her steady voice as she counts.  _ She’s here to help you, not hurt you. _

She’s so focused on the voice and the hand that she only notices she’s breathing mostly normally when her date stops counting.

“Thank you,” Yaz all but whispers, a watery smile on her lips.

“Come on, I’m taking you home. I already picked up all our stuff,” Jolie states matter of factly, extending her hand to Yaz as she stands up.

“My legs feel like jelly,” Yaz responds bluntly, trying to make it clear she doesn’t quite want to move yet.

“That’s okay. How about you just try standing up for now?” the blonde replies, bending down to help Yaz to her feet. She stands on wobbly legs, leaning against the wall as she tries to regain some feeling in them. She looks up at Jolie a few minutes later. “Thank you,” she says again sincerely, smiling weakly.

“It’s no problem. Would you like me to distract you while we walk?”

Yaz nods, linking her arm into Jolie’s as she offers it, not trusting her legs to keep her completely upright just yet.  _ You’re okay, she’s trying to help. God knows why, but she is. _ She isn’t sure what Jolie is rambling on about as they walk, something about the sun and the tides and beluga whales at one point, but it works. They make it back to Park Hill without further incident, and end up standing awkwardly outside again like they did after their first date.

“Will anyone else be home?” Jolie asks, breaking the silence first.

Yaz shakes her head. “No, mum and dad will still be at work, and my sister is staying at a friend’s place.”

Jolie rubs the back of her neck with her free hand. “Look, I don’t want to be too forward, but do you want me to stay with you until someone else gets home? I just don’t want you to spiral again if it can be helped.”

Yaz looks at her in shock. That, she was not expecting. But she finds herself accepting the offer. As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, she doesn’t want to be alone right now, and Jolie in particular makes her feel safe. Her bluntness and lack of conventional social skills are nice, she says it how it is and doesn’t care how Yaz behaves. 

She leads Jolie towards the main door of the building, up in the lift and along the walkway to her flat. She fumbles with her key in her pocket, but eventually manages to unlock the front door and heads inside, not hesitating to flop straight down on the sofa and curl into a tight ball.

Next to her, Jolie sets their things down on the coffee table. “Can I make you a cuppa?” she asks, making her way to the kitchen already. Yaz nods. “Milk and one sugar please.”

She picks at the sleeve of her jacket while she listens to the familiar sounds sounds of tea being made behind her by an unfamiliar presence, and then a mug appears in front of her nose while Jolie settles down next to her, wrapping her hands around her own mug. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Jolie asks a few minutes later.

Yaz takes a sip of her tea and shifts slightly to uncurl herself. “I get really claustrophobic. Don’t like feeling trapped or stuck,” she explains bluntly. “A group of people blocked me in a row of shelves for a minute, and then when I got back to you, everything was just really, really loud.” It’s not the complete story, but it’s close enough to the truth. 

Jolie sighs. “I can’t understand, exactly, but I imagine that must have been really scary. I’m glad we got you home though.”

Yaz nods. “Yeah, thanks for that.”

Jolie doesn’t make any move to leave, and settles back into the sofa. She begins rambling again, and Yaz is grateful for the distraction, forgetting her surroundings and focusing on the blonde’s voice. So much so that she jumps when she hears keys in the front door, spilling her now cold tea onto her knees.

Najia bustles into the room, doing a slight double take when she clocks the presence of a stranger sitting on her sofa, drinking tea. “Oh. Erm, hi. Yaz, who’s this?”

Yaz stands up, fiddling with her sleeve again. “Sorry, mum. This is my erm … friend, Jolie,” Yaz fills in.

“Nice to meet you, Yaz’s mum,” Jolie says, stepping forward and reaching out her hand. 

“Please, just call me Najia. Nice to meet you too.”

There are a few moments of awkward silence while the three of them stand in a sort of circle, staring at the ground, until Najia and Jolie both go to speak at the same time.

“So I should re-“

“Do you wa-“

“Sorry, you go first, Yaz’s mum,” the blonde states, stepping back slightly.

“Oh, I was just going to ask if you wanted to stay for dinner.”

“Ahh, I’m afraid I have to say no, got work tonight,” Jolie sighs, scrunching up her nose. Yaz looks at her quizzically. She doesn’t work on Fridays and she knows that Yaz knows that.

“No worries, it was nice to meet you anyway lovely! Enjoy the rest of your day.”

Yaz notices that Jolie offers up no more than a weak smile when she goes to leave.  _ Weird _ . She doesn’t have time to dwell on it though, because her mum is immediately bombarding her with questions.

“How come you’ve never mentioned Jolie before? How do you know each other? Why did you end up here?”

“Mum! Slow down!” Yaz says, having to restrain herself slightly from raising her voice. Najia raises her eyebrows but says nothing, only shooting her daughter a look of disapproval at her tone.

“Sorry. She’s a regular at the café, we talk most mornings and decided to start hanging out more. We were at the library, she was studying, I was reading, and I had a bit of a wobble, she made sure I was okay, brought me home and stayed until someone else came home,” Yaz blurts out, the words tumbling in a disorganised mess out of her mouth while she picks at her sleeve.

“Oh,” Najia sighs, pulling her daughter into a hug. “I’m glad she was there, she seems like a good one. How big of a wobble are we talking, though?”

Yaz pulls away, folding her arms tightly against her chest. “Not small. But not the worst ever. I just … I just want to have a nap and forget about it.”

“Yasmin! We have to talk about this!”

“Mum, I said I’m going to have a nap, we can talk about it later,” Yaz snaps, shocking herself with her attitude. Her mum and her had always had an open and honest relationship, but in all honesty, she was sick of people pitying her. Stalking off to her room, she shuts the door with a little more force than necessary, throwing herself down on the bed with a groan. 

_ I’ve really messed this up now,  _ is her immediate thought before her brain descends into a spiral of overthinking and panicking once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I feel like this is the first chapter where we really get into the story, so please let me know what you think! Kind of at that stage where I'm doubting so many future plot decisions so feedback would be super helpful 💛
> 
> Chapter title is a lyric from this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6nX1GBJNZic
> 
> A playlist featuring all the songs from this fic can be found here https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0T2wY8WE7DwBZGH1Ui0agQ


	4. Gray Areas and Expectations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which two useless gays don't know how to communicate or admit their feelings for each other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW for a brief mention of sexuality/coming out :)
> 
> Enjoy!

That following Monday is the least inviting Monday Yaz thinks she’s ever experienced. Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but she really doesn’t want to go to work. She had spent most of the weekend shutting herself away in her room, still refusing to talk to her mum. She knew she was reverting back to old, destructive habits, but she couldn’t stop herself. There’s something that feels fundamentally  _ wrong, _ and she’s struggling to single it out. There had been no texts from Jolie either, just radio silence, and Yaz tries to casually brush it off as her having had a busy weekend, without much success.

Yaz just about manages to drag herself out of bed and to the café on time to not be considered late. Unsurprisingly, Clara attacks her with a barrage of questions about the date as she drags her heavy limbs through the door, which Yaz responds to with short, vague answers. “Yeah the library was nice,” and “she was working on a project for uni.” Yaz knows that Clara has picked up on her sudden change in mood, but both of them refrain from mentioning it. 

From the moment the café opens, Yaz is on high alert, hoping every customer that comes through the door is Jolie. She doesn’t want to admit it to herself, but she’s upset about the way their date ended, and the fact that Jolie hasn’t been in touch with her all weekend. It’s not like Yaz made much of an effort either, but it still gets on her nerves. When it gets to 9am and the energetic blonde still hasn’t shown up, Yaz concludes that she must be avoiding her. 

Tuesday goes much the same, Yaz antsy and on edge. The second day with the notable lack of Jolie’s energetic presence spirals Yaz into thoughts that she really is avoiding her.  _ Yup, you’ve messed it up already you idiot. _ Or maybe she’s poorly, and Yaz is overreacting.

On her lunch break, she decides to break their unusual silence and send a text to Jolie, just to make sure she’s not actually poorly.

> **Yaz: Hey, haven’t heard from you all weekend and just wanted to check you were feeling okay**

By the end of her break, she still hasn’t had a reply so she turns her phone off and slips it reluctantly back into her bag. Like that morning, she finds herself clock watching again, and when her shift is finally over she practically runs out of the café before any of the other staff can corner her. Pulling her phone out of her bag, she really wishes it would turn on faster. When the screen  _ finally _ lights up, there’s one new message from Jolie. 

> **Jolie: If you’re asking if I’ve come down with something, I haven’t**

That throws Yaz off. The message is cold and too the point, and the significant lack of the smiley face at the end catches her off guard. Jolie  _ always _ finishes her messages with a smiley face. She shoves her phone back into her pocket and practically stomps the rest of the way home.

* * *

Yaz is lucky that when she gets home, nobody else is back yet. She opts to hide out in her room anyway, but her body fizzing with frustration makes it hard to sit still so she paces, paces, paces.

When she hears the keys in the front door and her mum calling a ‘hello, I’m back!’ Her belly fills with dread. 

“I’m in my room,” she calls back, hoping that her mum doesn’t feel the need to come and confirm that, but alas the universe decides to give her one more kick in the teeth, and her door opens.

“Have a good day?”

“Yeah, fine,” Yaz replies, not looking up from her laptop screen. 

“Yasmin, can you look at me when we’re talking please?”

Yaz swivels around in her chair, a miserable look still on her face. 

“Yaz, I know there’s something up with you, and I would really like it if you could tell me.”

She sighs heavily, staring at her hands that have begun twisting in her lap again. She  _ wants _ to tell her mum, but she’s scared to let on just how much she likes Jolie. She moves over to her bed, the mattress creaking as she flops down on it, and Najia settles gently beside her.

“Mum, if someone seemed to be mad at you for seemingly no reason, what would you do about it?”

Najia sighs, weighing up the ways she could approach the situation. “Well, what makes you think this person is mad at you?”

“They’re avoiding me,” Yaz replies bluntly.

“Okay, how long have they been avoiding you?”

“Three days.”

Najia hums in thought, her hand absentmindedly rubbing Yaz’s knee as if she were a child again. “Okay, this is my advice. Give them some space, maybe another day or so. If you don’t know  _ why _ they’re mad at you, there’s nothing you can do right now to try and make amends. Try and reach out in a couple of days, ask what’s bothering them. I’m sure it’ll all be okay.”

“Thanks mum,” Yaz murmurs, as Najia presses a kiss to her daughter’s forehead. And then, “I’m sorry I’ve been so moody.”

“Honey, that’s okay. It’s obviously bothering you a lot, and your dad and I just want you to be happy. You know that, don’t you?”

Yaz nods, leaning into her mum as she draws her in for a hug. Najia’s perfume is a welcome and familiar smell, and Yaz can finally feel herself starting to relax a little.

* * *

As soon as she arrives for work the next morning, Clara immediately corners her, a determined look on her face. Yaz knows she’s not exactly going to be gentle in what she says next.

“Yaz, are you and Jolie fighting.”

“What?”

“I can’t help but notice that she hasn’t been here this whole week, and you haven’t mentioned her once. Plus, you look like you’re walking around with a thundercloud over your head,” she states matter of factly, and Yaz knows she’s right.

“I dunno,” she sighs. “We hung out on Friday, she accidentally met my mum, and she’s been avoiding me since then.”

“Huh. You don’t think Najia scared her off, do you?”

“Clara!” Yaz protests, shoving her best friend’s shoulder gently.

“Okay, okay, I was only joking. But, just run me through what happened, maybe we can figure out what it was, if there is a reason.”

Just as Yaz is about to recount the events of Thursday, Grace bustles into the kitchen, followed by a slightly sleepy Ryan. He had never been a morning person, and Yaz smirks at his half-closed eyes, as if she herself hadn’t turned up to work in a similar state for the past two months.

Her attention is captured again by Clara nudging her arm gently, her words mouthed. “Do you want to talk to Ryan about it?”

Yaz replies with a quick nod. He might be annoying as anything, but his advice was reliable.

“Hey, Grace, would you mind getting started with some stuff in here, Ryan and I need to talk to Yaz about something?”

Grace nods, already setting to work, while a confused-looking Ryan is dragged through the archway to the front of the café. 

“Guyssss, what is this about?” Ryan groans, rubbing sleep from his eyes, drawing a shared laugh at his expense from Yaz and Clara.

“You know Jolie Smith, right?” Yaz inquires as the three sink into a collection of sofas and armchairs in the centre of the room.

“Erm, yeah, she tutors me once a week. Why are you asking me about her?”

Yaz takes a deep breath, and Clara reaches over to squeeze her knee reassuringly under the table.  _ It’s just Ryan, I’ve got this. _

“Okay, so erm … I’m kinda dating her,” Yaz states, her voice barely above a whisper as her gaze burns holes in the knots in the wooden table.

“That’s great Yaz!” Ryan replies, a hint of fake surprise to his voice.

Yaz shuffles in her seat, glancing up at him when Clara lets out a quiet chuckle.

“You already knew, didn’t you?”

Ryan groans in embarrassment. “She may have mentioned you, and once I realised it was a possibility, you have not been at all subtle, Yaz.” That statement earns a laugh from Clara, and Yaz elbows her in protest.

“Yaz, you basically turn into that heart eyes emoji whenever she’s around.”

“Hmm, thanks for that,” Yaz grumbles, but with a hint of a smile on her lips nevertheless.

They descend into a comfortable silence, before Ryan pipes up.

“That wasn’t everything you wanted to ask me though, was it?” He says kindly, leaning forward.

“Erm...no,” Yaz replied, glancing at Clara for reassurance.

“Yaz thinks Jolie is avoiding her, that they fell out over something, but she doesn’t know what. Any ideas?”

“I dunno, man. She definitely seemed off yesterday when I saw her. Kinda … deflated. Didn’t mention you once. Not sure why she’s upset with you though.”

Yaz leans back in her chair, her hands over her face as she groans in exasperation. “I wish I just knew! I can’t believe I’ve gone and messed this up already.”

“Hey, none of that!” Ryan scolds gently. “You don’t know what’s going on with her yet, it could have nothing to do with you. But the only way you’re gonna find out is if you ask her.”

Clara nods, pulling Yaz into a warm and familiar hug. “Ryan’s right. For once,” she says playfully.

“Hey!”

“No, but he is. Text her, ask to meet up so you can talk.”

“But, what if-” Yaz starts, her features laced with worry.

“Uh-uh, no buts. Either she’s going to tell you she doesn’t want to see you anymore, or you’re both going to finally admit your feelings for each other. And if you don’t talk to her, you’re just going to be stuck not knowing. Okay?”

Yaz sighs in submission, because however much she doesn’t want to admit it, she knows her best friend is right.

“Send her a text, ask when she’s free to meet up.”

Yaz shifts away from Clara to pull her phone from her back pocket, her fingers dancing over the screen as she tries to compose the right message.

> **Hey, I think we need to talk. When are you free so we can meet up?**

Standing up, she readjusts her apron nervously.

“We’d better get on with opening,” she states, having noted the time on her phone.

“I’ll help you,” Ryan offers, already pulling chairs down from tables.

Just as they’re about to open for the morning, Yaz feels her phone buzz in her back pocket, and she pulls it out, locking her eyes onto the message on the screen.

> **Jolie: I agree. The green at 3:30 today?**
> 
> **Yaz: See you then**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter was a bit short! It needed to happen for plot purposes. I promise there are some heftier chapters coming to make up for it :)
> 
> A playlist featuring all the songs from this fic can be found here https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0T2wY8WE7DwBZGH1Ui0agQ


	5. You Told Me Something Last October

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm too weak to prolong this kind of angst, so finally we can turn down the gay panic a little (although will it ever really be gone, let's be real)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a bigger chapter this time, with many, many developments and admissions. 
> 
> TW: mention of sexuality/coming out  
> TW: mention of death of a relative  
> TW: mention of past domestic abuse
> 
> Also a high risk of cavities ;-)

Yaz arrives at the green a little early, but to her surprise, Jolie is already there waiting for her. She offers a kind but reserved smile as Yaz walks over, and she returns it, wrapping her coat around her tighter as a sudden gust of wind whistles down the street. 

“Hey. Do you want to sit down?” Jolie asks, gesturing to the nearby row of benches, a clearly nervous look on her face.

Yaz nods in response, and selects one at the end of the row.

Before she can speak, words come tumbling out of Jolie’s mouth in a mess.

“I - I’m sorry for freezing you out and running off like that last week. I kinda freaked out a bit.”

“Oh,” Yaz starts. She had questions, questions prepared, and it doesn’t look like she’s going to be able to ask them. “Was it anything I did?” she asks, staring at a loose thread on her jeans.

“Kinda. Not really. I don’t know,” Jolie mumbles in reply. “I don’t exactly know how to explain it.”

Yaz stares at her.  _ Oh god, what did I do. Did I move too fast, was letting her come into my flat too much? No, keep calm Yaz, she’s obviously nervous, just let her explain. _

“It’s okay, take your time. Just so long as you tell me what it was. I won’t judge, I promise,” Yaz says softly, looking up at the blonde.

Jolie takes a deep breath, and her following words tumble out of her mouth, finally having opened the floodgates that were separating her thoughts and her words. “When you ─ when you told your mum who I was, you said I was your friend, and that upset me a bit. No, it scared me. Well, both, I think.”

Yaz frowns in disappointment.  _ How could I have been so naive? _ “You mean you don’t want to be friends anymore?”

Jolie looks at her in surprise. “Yes. Wait, no. I mean, I want to be friends, but I think I want to be, well, more than friends.”

“Hang on, so do you mean…”

Jolie nods, a smile breaking out across her face.

“Yasmin Khan, will you be my girlfriend? She grins, hesitantly taking Yaz’s hands in her own.

“Of course I will,” Yaz replies, surprisingly calm and collected considering it currently feels like she’s fizzing inside.

They sit like that for an undetermined amount of time, staring at each other as they drift closer and closer together. Yaz swallows thickly, leaning forward slightly more until her forehead is resting against Jolie’s.

“Do you think I could kiss you?” Yaz asks, tentatively sliding her fingers into the hair on the back of Jolie’s head. Her girlfriend responds by closing the remaining distance between them, gently pressing her lips against Yaz’s. They melt into the kiss, their noses squishing together until they readjust. Yaz is the first to pull back for air, albeit reluctantly, as adrenaline and a lingering warmth rushes through her. 

They giggle in unison. “That was quite something, girlfriend” Jolie breathes, her breath tickling Yaz’s lips, and she notices that she smells like custard creams. “It really was..” Yaz hums, her nose scrunching up as sensations overwhelm her.

“Have you been in the workshop today?” She giggles, rubbing the thumb entangled in Jolie’s hair gently against the base of her scalp, making her shiver slightly.

“Mmhmm,” she mumbles distractedly, too busy mapping out the curve of Yaz’s jaw.

“Hey you, stop ogling,” she chides playfully, blushing at the amount of attention her girlfriend is giving her. “You smell like engine oil, that’s why.”

“You’ve got a very nice face, you know. Quite like staring at it.”

“Hmm, I can tell,” Yaz murmurs smugly as she leans in to break Jolie’s stare so she can press her lips against the blonde’s again.

She’s left hanging though when Jolie pulls back, a look of guilt on her face. “Wait, did you say I smell like engine oil? Oh my god, I’m so sorry. You  _ kissed _ me for the first time and I smelt like engine oil?”

“Jolie, you’re fine! I quite like it actually, it’s very you. Plus I’m never going to let you forget that you kissed me for the first time while smelling like engine oil and custard creams.”

Jolie groans dramatically, a smirk taking purchase on her face. “Oh god, I’m so done for,” she laughs, green eyes sparkling and dancing. 

“Yeah, sorry.”

They sit leaning into each other for a moment, but Jolie starts fidgeting restlessly.

“You okay?” Yaz asks, tilting her head to look up at her girlfriend.

“I need to explain something to you, Yaz,” she replies, her fidgeting increasing.

“It’s alright, take your time.”

Jolie takes a deep breath, deciding that she needs to say this now before she could spontaneously combust from pent-up nervous energy. “I have ADHD. That’s why I’m not very good at social cues, I don’t sit still very often, I talk at a million miles a minute, I have the attention span of a peanut. And it’s why it took me so long to figure out why I was upset that you called me a friend.” She lets out a long, shuddering breath at the end of her sentence, eyes desperately searching Yaz’s face for an answer.

It takes Yaz a moment to process the information that had just been dumped on her, but somehow it’s not a surprise. “That...that makes a lot of sense,” she replies, face warming into a reassuring smile.

“So, you still want to be with me?” Jolie asks, an unsure look on her face.

“Of course I do, you peanut. It’s what makes you, you, and quite frankly I like it,” she grins, leaning in to steal another kiss.

They’re both slightly breathless when they break apart, wistful grins gracing their faces. Jolie’s is broken by her signature nose scrunch.

“Did you really just call me a peanut?”

“Mmhmm. Although you did call yourself a peanut first.”

They sit tucked together comfortably on the bench, fingers intertwined between them, Yaz’s hand resting on Jolie’s knee while her girlfriend’s free arm curls naturally around her waist. 

After a few minutes, Yaz shifts in her position, free hand now reaching to pick at a loose thread on the sleeve of her jacket. “Jolie… there’s something I need to tell you too. There’s a bit of a… of a thing with the whole ‘you being my girlfriend’ development, ” Yaz murmurs anxiously as her gaze intensified on her hand.

Turning to look at her, Jolie’s features are laced with concern as she crooks a finger under Yaz’s chin to tilt her head towards her. “What is it?”

“Well, it’s more like two things. I think I’m only comfortable telling you one right now though,” Yaz says, her voice slightly shaky.

“That’s okay. In your own time, Yaz.”

“No, I want to tell you. Well, I have to,” she replies. “You see, the thing is, I’ve not - I’ve not exactly come out to anyone yet, except Clara and Ryan. Not - not to my family,” she all but mumbles, her gaze burning holes into the hands twisting themselves anxiously in her lap.

They’re paused when Jolie reaches her own out to cover them, halting them as well as the spiralling thoughts they represent.

“Yaz, look at me. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. You don’t have to make it a big thing. And you know I’m here to support you, whatever you decide to do. And I’m sure Clara and Ryan are of the same opinion. Yeah?”

Yaz nods, wiping away stray tears that are making their way stubbornly down her cheeks. “Thanks. That-that means a lot. I guess I’m just worried because I’ve been in a relationship with a guy before, and that’s it. That’s the whole image they have, and I’m going to ruin it.”

Jolie pulls Yaz into a tight hug as her voice wavers and she gratefully accepts, tucking her head under Jolie’s chin. “Yasmin, you’re not going to ruin anything. And if they’re upset, that’s their problem, not yours. But from the way you talk about them, it honestly sounds to me like they love you a lot. They’re not going to be upset.”

Yaz nods, wrapping her arms around Jolie’s waist and squeezing gently in a silent  _ thank you _ . In response, Jolie squeezes back with one arm, while the other moves up Yaz’s back and comes to nestle at the nape of her neck, scratching lightly at the baby hairs that have escaped from her braided updo. Yaz sighs contentedly, pressing her cheek further into her girlfriend’s neck. 

“Jolie, can I ask, how did you come out to your family? I think it might help.”

“Of course you can, Yaz,” she replies, but Yaz notes a slight shake to her voice, and squeezes her waist again.

“Well, erm, it were just my granny that I had to tell. I was, 17 I think. I got home from school, made us both a cup of tea like I always did, sat her down on the sofa. And then I simply said ‘granny, I need you to know that I’m only attracted to girls. Not guys.’ She kinda stared at me for a second, and then hugged me like she did when I was little.”

Jolie’s voice catches in the back of her throat, but she swallows it and continues. “Told me she loved me regardless, and that she would never stop loving me. We both cried, a lot. There were so many questions over the coming weeks, but they weren’t malicious. She just wanted to understand,” Jolie finishes, smiling sadly as fond memories roll down her cheeks in fat tears. 

Presuming they have something to do with her use of the past tense, Yaz wriggles an arm free to wipe at her girlfriend’s damp cheeks with the pad of her thumb before cupping her face gently, turning her head so her gaze was meeting her own.

“Thank you for telling me. I think I would like your granny,” Yaz murmurs softly.

“Yeah, she would’ve liked you. She was amazing,” Jolie replies, her breath catching in her throat. It’s clear to Yaz that the loss of her granny is still raw and painful to Jolie, and leaves her wondering just how recent it had been. She refrains from probing any further though, they’ve both had enough emotions for one day. 

They sink easily back into the hug, oblivious to the world around them until a cold gust of wind pulls a particularly violent shiver from Yaz. As Jolie readjusts to wrap her arms in a more snug way around Yaz, she sneaks a glance at the watch on her wrist.

“Oh crap. Yaz, I’ve gotta go to work,” she sighs, peeling away from the brunette at her side. 

“I didn’t realise it was so late. I’m sorry I kept you so long,” Yaz replies sheepishly, her hands twisting in her lap again, only to be stopped by Jolie. It’s becoming a familiar pattern for them. 

“Hey, don’t worry about it. I’m not complaining about the fact that I just sat and cuddled with my girlfriend for a good half an hour,” she teases, and Yaz blushes deeply.

“I’m sure spending your evening with cute puppies isn’t too bad either,” she quips in return.

“Ugh no, not Wednesday. Wednesday I’m on kennel-cleaning duty,” Jolie whines, her nose scrunching up in protest.

Yaz laughs. “Well, most days it’s better than that I guess.”

Jolie nods, her brows furrowing as thoughts pull together in her brain. “Do you think we could hang out again soon? I’ve got work tomorrow evening but Friday? Nothing fancy, just, you know, be around each other? We could maybe watch a movie at my flat or something?” she asks nervously, chewing her bottom lip.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that,” Yaz murmurs back, leaning back in to close the gap between them, moulding their lips together again.

When they break from the kiss, they’re both a little breathless and giddy again. Jolie is the first to break the trance, standing up before she really  _ is _ late for work. 

“When do you finish?” Yaz asks, still a little dizzy from the kissing.

“Eight thirty. I’ll call or text you or something?”

“I like the sound of that,” Yaz confirms, a wide grin taking over her face.

“So I’ll see you tomorrow morning, girlfriend?”

“See you then, girlfriend.”

* * *

  
  


The next morning, Yaz wakes up before her alarm, her whole body still fizzing with adrenaline. _I have a girlfriend,_ was her first thought. _And I get to hang out with her_ _really soon,_ was her second thought. The third though, filled her belly with dread. _But I need to tell my family_. When Jolie had gotten off work last night, she had indeed texted her, and Yaz was secretly pleased to see the cute smiley face had reappeared at the end of her messages, now accompanied by an ‘x’. She smiled broadly as she picked up her phone, re-reading part of their string of texts from last night.

> **Yaz: i think i want to come out to my family sooner rather than later. like, tomorrow evening kinda soon x**
> 
> **Jolie: If that’s what you want to do. I support you either way, you know that :) x**
> 
> **Yaz: thanks. i just don’t think putting it off is going to help, rather get it over and done with?**
> 
> **Jolie: Yeah, I agree. How are you going to tell them though? :) x**
> 
> **Yaz: i’m just going to sit them down, and tell them that i’m not straight. i think telling them about you might be a good idea too, if that’s okay with you x**
> 
> **Jolie: Of course that’s okay Yaz! I’m done at work at 7, I can call you then? x**
> 
> **Yaz: if you don’t mind, yeah x**
> 
> **Jolie: Of course I don’t mind! I will never mind calling you, but please get some sleep so you’re not a complete zombie in the morning! :) x**
> 
> **Yaz: haha, very funny. night x**
> 
> **Jolie: Night x**
> 
> **Yaz: Actually wait one more thing x**
> 
> **Jolie: Mmhmm :) x**
> 
> **Yaz: would you mind meeting me at work tomorrow before it opens, if it’s okay with you I want to properly introduce you to clara and grace x**
> 
> **Jolie: I would like that. Now sleep, I’ll see you in the morning :) x**
> 
> **Yaz: in the morning x**

Feeling a little more reassured, she pulls herself out of bed, busying herself with her usual morning routine. Hair brushed and braided, teeth cleaned, face washed, uniform donned. It’s when she gets to the breakfast portion of her morning though that she’s thrown off guard, for her parents are both already up and about, taking up the whole kitchen. She tries to swallow down the anxiety caused by the sudden change to her morning routine on such a significant day, but is only semi-successful, left with a lingering layer of nervous energy, her fight or flight response ready to be called at a moment’s notice.

“Oh, morning. You two are up early,” Yaz mumbles in confusion, sliding past her dad to reach the toaster, popping in two slices of bread and pushing the lever down.

Najia smiles, setting her newspaper down. “I’m on the night shift again, so I haven’t gone to bed yet. Plus your dad has to drive down to Coventry today for work, did you forget?”

Yaz nods as a vague memory of a conversation a few days prior. “Oh, yeah. Sorry, still not quite awake,” she replies, pulling out butter and jam and a knife.

Najia takes a sip of her tea, eyeing her daughter’s still sleep-doused state. “Trouble sleeping? Nightmares again?”

“Mum!” Yaz half-yells, spinning round to face her mum. Apparently it was the fight response that had jumped into action this time. “Can you  _ please _ stop always assuming it’s nightmares! They barely happen anymore, and you constantly asking that makes me think you don’t believe I’m getting better!”

“Yasmin, don’t raise your voice at me. I’m only asking because I care about you, and I don’t want you to lie to me.”

Yaz is about to retort, but her dad steps in. “Okay, okay. You’re both making good points. Najia, love, you need to give Yaz a little more space to breathe. Yaz, you need to try and understand that we just care about you, and want you okay. Now, I need to go and have a shower, so can you two please make up.” Hakim gives them both piercing glares before walking out the kitchen, leaving his wife staring guiltily into her cup of tea and his daughter giving a similar look to her plate. 

“I’m sorry for overreacting, mum. It threw me off that you’re both in here this early,” Yaz says softly, spreading a layer of blueberry jam over her slice of toast.

“Thank you, sweetheart. I’m sorry for not listening to you more. Or your dad, apparently,” Najia replies, squeezing Yaz’s arm as she slides into the dining chair next to her.

“Thanks mum. I just feel like a lot of the time, people don’t see me as  _ me _ anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

Yaz takes a deep breath, staring at the table for a moment to properly collect her thoughts. “I mean, I’m not just Yasmin Khan. I’m Yasmin Khan who had an abusive boyfriend. And the pitying gets really tiring, really fast, mum. And I  _ know _ most of it comes from a place of love, but that doesn’t mean it still doesn’t chip away at me. Like, there’s more to me than that, but I feel like people don’t see it.”

Najia sighs guiltily. “I didn’t … I didn’t realise you felt that way. I never meant to give that impression, and I’m sorry I did. What can I … we do to stop that?”

Yaz wipes at a stubborn tear that rolls down her cheek, taking a moment to compose herself before she speaks again. 

“I want you to let me make my own decisions, to not question me. To accept that I’m going to struggle with certain things, but not make everything about that. Just try and see me for me.”

Najia leans across the table, grasping Yaz’s hands and looking her straight in the eye. “I will try my absolute best to do that, we all will. And please, tell us if we’re doing something wrong. You have control over this. Mmhmm?”

Yaz returns her mum’s gaze, locking watery eyes with watery eyes. “Thanks, mum. I love you,” she murmurs.

“I know you do, love. Now, would you like to do the morning prayers with me?”

Yaz nodded in acceptance of the offer, getting up to move from the kitchen to the living room alongside her mum. She had been neglecting prayers recently, but today felt like the right time to try and start again. As she moved through the familiar movements with her mum, there was a distinct sense of calm washing over her. 

* * *

Upon arriving at work Yaz immediately busies herself with her usual morning tasks, even going so far as listening to music through her trusty earbuds to avoid questioning from Clara. She’s so engrossed in her routine and the music that she jumps violently when there’s a knock at the window. 

When she looks towards the source of the sound, she’s greeted with her girlfriend grinning back at her through the window, looking far too happy to be awake this early. Yaz feels her chest warm all the same though, and grins back. She waves a hello, then makes a circling motion with her arms and points towards the back of the café, trying to signal to Jolie to meet her round the back. Only receiving a lost puppy look in return, head tilted to one side and all, she resorts to texting Jolie what she was trying to tell her. She sees her mouth open in realisation as she figures it out, and then she’s dashing down the street.

Yaz mirrors her hurried movements, zipping through the kitchen to the back door, thankfully evading Clara and Grace’s questioning looks for now, as they’re completely engrossed in measuring ingredients and mixing them together. She opens the back door and sticks her head out, immediately spotting a slightly lost looking blonde at the end of the back alley. 

“Hey, babe! Over here!” she calls, and Jolie turns around with a comically disorientated expression on her face, which breaks into a warm smile at the sight of her girlfriend. She skips over, wrapping her arms loosely around Yaz’s waist and kissing the tip of her nose, pulling a small giggle from her. 

“You just called me babe,” she states, her eyes sparkling.

“I did. That okay with you?”

“More than okay, as long as I can call you that too,” she teases, her mouth curling into a smile.

“I s’pose that would be alright,” Yaz counters cheekily, before grabbing the arms that are slung around her hips, pulling Jolie in out of the early November cold and into the warmth of the café. 

“You can hang your stuff here,” she states quietly, gesturing to the rows of coat pegs next to the door into the kitchen, which was slightly ajar, letting the noises and smells of a busy bakery drift into the hallway. She takes Jolie’s coat as she removes it, hanging it neatly next to her own. She stifles a giggle when she takes in Jolie’s blouse choice of the day; off-white with tiny, multi-coloured cartoon dinosaurs printed over it. It’s completely goofy but so very  _ her. _

“I like the shirt,” she croons, playing with the cuff at Jolie’s wrist. 

Her girlfriend practically swoons at the comment. “It’s one of my favourites! All the little dinos have names too. There’s Bob, Dave, Linda, Kat-”

Jolie’s reeling off of her dino names is interrupted by Yaz kissing her, and she’s momentarily indignant before melting into it.

“Not that I  _ don’t _ want to hear all their names, but we could maybe leave that for later? I want to introduce you to Clara and Grace properly, not because you wouldn’t stop talking and they heard you,” she teases gently, brushing her finger against the curve of the blonde’s jaw, earning a mumbled agreement in response.

Yaz steps back from Jolie, making her way towards the kitchen door. Jolie goes to follow her, but Yaz raises a hand, silently asking her to wait back for a moment. She nods in understanding, offering up an encouraging smile and a whispered “you got this, Yaz,” before she slips through the door into the kitchen.

Clara and Grace look up from their work at her entrance, and she takes a shaky breath, smoothing her hands over her apron.

“Erm, guys, I would like you to meet someone.”

“Who is it, love?” Grace asks, a kind smile on her face.

Yaz steps backwards through the door again, beckoning for Jolie to step forward. When she’s in reach, Yaz grabs her hand and pulls her to her side, stepping back through the doorway again.

“Clara, Grace, I would like you to meet my girlfriend, Jolie. Jolie, this is Clara and Grace,” Yaz says, all in one big breath. She starts to fidget anxiously immediately, and Jolie gives her hand a reassuring squeeze, moving her thumb to rub over the back of it.

Clara is round the other side of the table and has pulled Jolie into a fierce hug before Grace can even stand up, and Yaz laughs at Jolie’s bemused expression. She shrugs in amusement, before accepting a similar hug herself from Grace. 

Clara steps back, a triumphant grin on her face. “I give great hugs,” she states confidently.

“Ahh, not as good as mine though,” Grace counters, pulling Jolie into yet another hug that is indeed even warmer than Clara’s. “Nice to meet you in this capacity, love.”

Yaz glances between them in confusion, before it dawns on her and her mouth moves into a silent ‘o’ shape. “Of course you two know each other!”

Grace smiles at Yaz’s realisation. “Yes, and I will admit to the fact that I usually convince her to stay for dinner after she’s finished tutoring that grandson of mine.”

“She’s convinced I don’t get enough proper nutrition.”

“I stand by that statement, you can’t live off custard creams and tea,” Grace replies. “You’re welcome to join us some time if you like, Yaz.”

Both Yaz and Jolie are blushing heavily at this point, and lean into each other for reassurance. “It’s nice to meet you both too,” Jolie says through a sincere smile, and it warms Yaz’s heart, filling her with confidence and a sense of belonging. She’s pulled from the moment all too soon though when she notes the time on the clock on the wall, and realises she only has 10 minutes to finish preparing before they open.

“I’d better go and finish getting set up through there,” she says regretfully, looking across at Jolie. “Want to help? You can finish telling me all the dinosaurs’ names while we work?”

Jolie’s face lights up at the proposition. “Helping my girlfriend, and talking about my favourite shirt at the same time? Brilliant!”

Yaz laughs loudly as she drags her through to the front, already reeling off the names of the printed prehistoric creatures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was so nervous to post this chapter, I hope it came across well :)
> 
> Chapter title from this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWOjqDPSsoM
> 
> A playlist featuring all the songs from this fic can be found here https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0T2wY8WE7DwBZGH1Ui0agQ
> 
> Also this is what I was thinking of with Jolie's shirt https://www.silkfred.com/boutiques/sugarhill-brighton/clothing/joy-oversized-shirt-in-cream-jurassic-jive-dinosaur-print?locale=en-GB&gclid=CjwKCAjw34n5BRA9EiwA2u9k338eWGvcdsE6mo_e5NmQUXu-zDk9wJRXMiZ67xmtBeciRXDBebZO7BoCjjEQAvD_BwE


	6. It Takes an Ocean Not to Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which we have many important discussions, some good old hurt/comfort and a good helping of fluff!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, wow this is a chunky chapter. I wasn't sure about a lot of this so please let me know what you think! There's also a small section from Jolie's POV for a change :)
> 
> TW: discussions of sexuality/coming out  
> TW: discussions of past domestic abuse  
> TW: minor mention of injury/blood (someone is just a clumsy idiot)

When Yaz gets home from work that afternoon, she’s jittering with nerves and the silence in the flat has never been deafening. By her calculations, she won’t have everyone home and awake until six thirty at the earliest, and a quick glance at her watch confirms that she’s got just over two hours to wait at the least.

Flopping down on her bed, mind racing, she tries to come up with ways to occupy herself until then. Jolie is at work, Clara probably still is too, and Ryan will be in lectures. She resorts to her old habit of pacing and wringing her hands, it getting more insistent and forceful without Jolie there to stop her. 

Glancing around her room for something to do, her eyes eventually land on an old sketchbook poking out from the corner of her bookshelf. She hasn’t drawn anything in  _ months, _ but she pulls it from the shelf all the same, settling on the floor and leaning against the edge of her bed as she flicks through the pages.

As her eyes wander over page after page of pencil sketches, ranging from imaginary landscapes, to people, to cityscapes, a sense of calm washes over her. She finally reaches a blank page, and considers it for a moment, slipping out the pencil that’s stored in the rings of the notebook, tapping it against her nose in thought. 

Yaz begins to draw the pencil across the paper in shaky, unsure lines. She’s out of practice, but persists nonetheless. As she works, the lines get more confident and steady, her years of practice as a teenager showing themselves in the growing ease at which she sketches. 

When she finally sits back a good hour and a half and several pages later, she takes in her final sketch. It’s unmistakably Jolie, her  _ girlfriend, _ and Yaz grins unashamedly. She admits it’s not perfect, but she doesn’t care. It felt so good to be indulging in one of her oldest hobbies again, and wonders why she hadn’t gotten back into it sooner. It worked perfectly as a distraction too, because now she’s only got half an hour to wait, and she feels warm and fuzzy everywhere. 

Dragging herself up from the floor, she sets the sketchbook back on her desk and grabs a towel from her radiator, settling for a quick shower to calm the nerves that are rapidly taking hold of her belly again, twisting it into knots.

The cool spray of the shower against her warm skin is bliss, and she tilts her head up to the water and sighs contentedly. Reaching for the bottle of fancy shower scrub she was gifted goodness knows when, she squeezes a generous amount into her palm before working it into a lather. She takes extra care to go slowly, paying attention to the process rather than going quickly like she usually would.

When she’s done with her shower, she steps out and wraps herself in her giant fluffy towel, padding back to her bedroom. Pursuing her wardrobe, she selects a Mickey Mouse hoodie and a comfy pair of leggings, dressing quickly and pulling her hair out of the braids from work, letting it hang loose down her back. 

Hearing her dad come home from work causes another wave of anxiety to wash over her, and she takes a moment to grip onto the edge of her desk as her vision goes slightly blurry.  _ In for four, out for seven,  _ Jolie’s voice pops into her head. It’s a surprise, but a welcome one. Yaz concentrates completely on her breathing, and to her relief it only takes a few rounds of the counting before she’s calmed herself again.  _ See? You’ve got this, _ she tells herself, a small smile of confidence gracing her lips.

* * *

  
  


Walking into the main living space of their flat, Yaz is grateful to see her parents already sitting there.  _ That’s two less people to get into the room. _

“Erm, mum, dad. Do you think I could speak to you about something for a minute? Sonya too.” 

Yaz is already shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot, twisting her hands in the ends of her sleeves.

“Sonya!” her dad yells, earning a predictable eye-roll from Najia. It’s familiar and expected and comforting, helping slightly to quell the wasps buzzing angrily in the pit of her belly.

Her sister emerges from her bedroom, leaning against the door with an unimpressed look on her face.

“Yeah?”

“Come and sit down love, Yaz has something she wants to talk to us all about. Apparently.”

Sonya stands up properly and ambles over to the sofa in what Yaz would consider to be the most dramatic fashion she could possibly muster, and she resists the urge to roll her eyes. Yaz chooses to settle into the armchair perpendicular to the sofa occupied by her family, not sure she can trust her legs to keep her upright at the moment.

Najia is the first to break the unusual silence, as always. “What was it you wanted to tell us then?”

Yaz took a deep breath, bringing herself into a cross-legged position as she did so.  _ Here goes nothing. _

“I wanted to tell you that I’m seeing someone again. I have been for a couple of months, and we made it official yesterday.”

She glances up momentarily to gauge her family’s reactions, and to her surprise, they all remain fairly neutral. She was expecting, well, more than that.

“And, the reason I’m only telling you this now, and not earlier, is because I’m with a woman. Her name is Jolie. So, in case you hadn’t guessed, this is my way of telling you I’ve realised I’m not straight.”

Yaz is scared to look up from her lap, so the only thing she notices is the deafening silence. She’s taken completely by surprise by the sudden presence of her sister right in front of her, hovering for a second before launching herself at Yaz, enveloping her in a crushing hug. Sonya’s sudden burst of affection throws her off, she’s never this nice, but it’s welcome and comforting and Yaz feels like she can breathe. 

“Way to go, sis!” Sonya cries in her usual slightly tactless fashion, but it makes Yaz tear up as she perches on the arm of the chair.  _ She’s on my side, _ Yaz thinks.  _ Quite literally. _ She looks across at her parents apprehensively, they’re yet to show any reaction.

“Guys?”

Again it’s Najia who speaks first, “Sorry, love. We’re just a bit surprised, that’s all.”

“So, you don’t hate me?”

“Yaz, you’re our daughter and we love you more than anything in the world, regardless of any of that. We’re not mad, we don’t hate you. We just need to process, that’s all.”

Yaz nods, understanding.  _ That’s their problem, not yours.  _ Her girlfriend’s voice rings through her head again, and she smiles involuntarily, a fact that Sonya immediately latches onto.

“You thinking about her?” she asks cheekily, and Yaz playfully jabs an elbow into her side, blushing furiously.

“Hah, knew it! Wait, do you have a picture, so we can see what she looks like?” she asks, and Yaz is grateful for her sister’s nosiness for once, hoping that showing them a picture might help her parents process this new information. 

Yaz nods, pulling her phone from her pocket and hiding the screen from her sister as she flicks through her photo album to find a good one of them both. She lands on one they took together at the café yesterday morning, both of them with wide, bright smiles on their faces at the elation of having just told Clara and Grace about their relationship.

She hands the phone to Sonya and watches anxiously as she takes in the photo. 

“She’s pretty, even though she’s wearing that  _ hideous _ shirt” she states, earning a huff of exasperation from her older sister. Then, after a moment of consideration, “Wait, are you at Clara’s? Oh my god, please don’t tell me that’s how you met?!”

Yaz blushes furiously, plucking her phone out of her sister’s hands before she can do any further digging. “Yes, we did.”

“That is the cringiest thing I’ve heard all week,” she says, before heading back to her room, deciding she’s done her part here. 

_ Well, at least Sonya seems cool with it. In her own way. _

Yaz turns back to face her parents, flipping her phone between her hands.

“Erm, would you two like to see a picture of her? Well, of us?” she asks apprehensively, inadvertently chewing her bottom lip in a fashion that mirrored her girlfriend’s.

Her dad nods and shuffles to the side, making space for Yaz to sit between her parents. She brings the photo up on her phone again, holding it out so they can all see. 

“Wait, haven’t I already met her?” Najia quips, giving her eldest daughter a puzzled expression.

“Erm yeah. She brought me back last week.”  _ Had it really only been a week? _

“Wait, were you on a date then?”

Yaz grimaces. “Kinda.”

Hakim looks at them both, his face a perfect picture of confusion. “What are you two on about?”

“We, erm, we were on a date, last week. I had a bit of a wobble so she calmed me down and brought me home, she was still here when mum came back.”

“Oh,” Hakim breathes, glancing at his wife on the opposite side of Yaz. “We’re glad you found someone that would do that for you.”

Yaz nods, contented with her parents' reaction right now. Yeah, they might not fully understand just yet, but they accepted it, and that was all she needed.

Glancing at her watch, she realised it was already after 7, the time had flown by so quickly. “I’m going to go and call her, she just finished work and I promised I would to let her know how all this went.”

As Yaz makes her move to stand up and leave, she’s halted by a crushing hug from both her parents.

“Yasmin, we love you so, so much, okay? Don’t ever forget that,” her mum whispers in her ear. Tears well up in Yaz’s eyes as she returns the hug.

“Thank you.”

* * *

  
  


Back in her room, Yaz settles on her bed, pulling her phone out from her pocket, and sees two things. It’s already way past seven, and that she has one missed FaceTime and two messages from her girlfriend.

> **Jolie: Hey!! I just got done with work, I hope everything went well! Call me when you’re free :) x**
> 
> **Jolie: Scratch that, FaceTime me, I want to see your cute face :) x**

Yaz laughs, blushing at the message before settling back into the pillows against her headboard and calling her back. 

_ “Hiya!”  _ Her voice comes chiming down the line as soon as she answers. Yaz can barely see her though, it’s dark and Jolie can just about be seen squinting comically at the camera.

“Hey!” Yaz replies, then “Babe, where on Earth are you?”

“ _ I’m almost home. Had to go straight to work from my lecture ‘cause it ran over, didn’t have time to come home and get my car. So I walked there and back,”  _ she explains, short blonde hair whipping around her face as the wind picks up, turning her nose pink. 

“Babe, are you not freezing?” Yaz chides gently, just as Jolie steps inside what must be her block of flats, squinting at the sudden brightness.

_ “Better now that I’m inside!”  _ she quips, bounding up the stairs, her phone shaking and making Yaz feel a little queasy. She hears the jingle of keys in a lock and Jolie slides inside, turning on the light and grinning as she shrugs her coat off. The burgundy polo shirt of her uniform suits her well, and Yaz grins unashamedly at her slightly dishevelled yet adorable look.

Jolie flops down on her sofa, tucking her hair behind her ears as she settles.  _ “There we go! All comfy now. So, how did it go?” _ she asks kindly, settling her chin in the palm of her free hand.

“Erm, pretty well, I think. Sonya was annoying as anything, as usual, but she was really cool with it. Hugged me and everything, it were weird,” she chuckles, before staring down at her lap.

_ “And your parents?”  _ she probes gently, head tilting to one side.

“They’re … okay. Processing, I think. I mean, they told me they didn’t hate me, and that they still loved me regardless, but it’s just weird.”

_ “That’s completely valid, babe. But remember, that’s their issue, not yours, right?” _

“Yeah, I guess. I’m just waiting for the inevitable barrage of questions from them.”

_ “Hah, that’s always a fun time. You don’t have to answer anything you’re not comfortable with though, right?”  _ Jolie smiles encouragingly. _ “Besides, you’re here tomorrow evening, so that’s a good chunk of time you can avoid that.” _

The comment earns a laugh from Yaz. “Haha, yup. I’m looking forward to it though,” she grins, her smile sincere and hopeful.

_ “Me too,”  _ her girlfriend replies. Then, after a small pause,  _ “Actually, I was thinking. Erm … if you wanted, you could maybe stay over? And then we could do something on Saturday. No pressure though, I understand if you don’t want to though, I’m cool either way.” _

Yaz smiles at the question, that her girlfriend is definitely not cool about asking as she had implied if her flushed features are anything to go by. She weighs up the option in her head.  _ Not having to watch the time would be nice, and I wouldn’t have to go back and forward. A night away from here would be a good change. Plus, I’m not going to say no to extra time with my girlfriend.  _

“Yeah! I think I would like that,” she replies, both of their faces breaking out into a grin. 

_ “Brilliant! Although, I’m gonna warn you, I’m messy. My chaotic personality can only be contained to some degree,” _ she grins cheekily.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Yaz replies, filled with excitement at the prospect of a night away from home, and a whole day to spend just with her girlfriend.

* * *

Jolie stands in the middle of the chaos that is her kitchen, hands on hips as she lets out a deep sigh. A glance at the radio in the corner of the bench confirms she has 45 minutes to get this place into some sort of order before she has to leave for the day. She turns in a slow circle as she tries to figure out where to start first, only confusing herself further and further.  _ A list, you need a list. _

Nodding in agreement with her own thoughts, she pulls her trusty pad of paper and a purple space pen from the kitchen draw, nudging it closed again with her hip, rubbing at it when she uses a little too much force. 

5 minutes later, she has a to-do list attached to her fridge with a star magnet and a clearer head.  _ Change the sheets, give the bathroom a once over, sweep the floors,  _ she repeats to herself, gleefully checking each task off her list as she goes.

When she’s finally ready to leave, her flat is in a slightly improved state of order, but still a visual representation of the chaos that is the inside of her head.  _ It’ll have to do, hopefully Yaz’ll understand.  _ Her nerves still churn uncomfortably though, she so desperately wants her girlfriend to actually want to stay rather than just doing so because it’s polite.

* * *

  
  


“Well, this is me,” Jolie states nervously, unlocking her front door and holding it open to let Yaz step in first. “Apologies for the mess, it’s clean, I promise. Just not necessarily very organised,” she grimaces, staring intently at the floor.

Yaz steps inside and takes in the combined living room kitchen in front of her. It’s small and plain - the joys of being on a student budget - but the clutter makes it feel homely. It’s not really her definition of messy, more like someone whose personality is a bit bigger than the space they’re trying to cram it all into. 

She turns back round to see her girlfriend looking at her sheepishly, chewing her bottom lip. “Babe, it’s  _ fine,”  _ she reassures, leaning up to steal a gentle kiss as to prove her point.

Jolie decides to launch into further explanation of her home as they take off their coats and shoes, and Yaz lets her. She probably just needs to clear her head.

“You see, the living room is more like my office. I’d never get anything done if my desk were in my bedroom, and I don’t have a TV, so it works out better. Just a shame that the room where my brain explodes and leaves behind the chaos also happens to be the first one you walk into. Don’t get many visitors though, none really. Technically you’re the first person to visit except from the landlord, and a plumber one time,” she rambles, before stopping abruptly when she realises Yaz has gone quiet. “Sorry. Talking too much again,” she finishes sheepishly.

“Nope.”

“What do you mean, nope?”

“I mean,” Yaz replies, stepping forward again to sling her arms loosely around her girlfriend’s waist, “Nope, you don’t talk too much. Just the right amount, actually.”

Jolie blushes furiously at the comment, momentarily flummoxed as to what to say next, so she just stares at Yaz instead, a dopey, lopsided smile on her face.

“So you don’t think it’s weird having my living room be my office?” she asks, nose scrunching up in that adorable fashion.

“Nah. Separate spaces for separate activities, right?” she affirms, before stepping back to pick up her overnight bag.

Jolie tilts her head to one side in confusion. “How did you know that?”

“You’re forgetting I’m technically a psychology student,” she replies with a shy smile. “Brains are kind of my area.”

“Oh, yeah!” she grins, then clapping her hands together. “Right, I need to swap my contacts for my glasses, you could put your stuff away while I do that, if you like? I cleared some space for you,” she smiles, grabbing Yaz’s hand and leading her down the little hallway off from the kitchen and stepping through the first door they come across. 

Even if Yaz didn’t know where she was, the room would have instantly been recognisable as her girlfriend’s. Being a student flat, the walls and furnishings are plain, but there are fairy lights draped across almost every available surface, rainbow striped sheets on the bed, and glow-in-the-dark stars stuck to the ceiling. There’s a sense of warmth and comfort in here, and it smells faintly of tea and custard creams and vanilla. 

“Sorry, it’s kinda childish,” Jolie mutters from behind her, causing Yaz to spin around with a scolding look on her face. 

“Hey! None of that. This is your space, your flat, and you’re letting me into it. As long as you like it, it’s not too anything, okay?” she chides gently.

“I s’pose. I do love the stars on my ceiling,” she grins bashfully.

“That’s more like it! And please, stop putting yourself down for who you are. Promise me?”

Jolie nods in agreement, leaning down slightly to place a gentle kiss of gratitude on her girlfriend’s forehead. They stand comfortably together, the trance only broken as Yaz reaches to tuck a lock of Jolie’s hair behind her ear that had fallen in front of her face.

She breaks away, slipping past Yaz to amble over to the dresser opposite the foot of the bed, pulling open the top drawer. “I cleared out half this drawer for you, and there are a few spare coat hangers in the wardrobe if you’ve got anything that needs hanging up,” she rambles, gesturing around the room as she does so.

“That’s perfect,” Yaz smiles. “Actually, I was thinking of changing into my pyjamas already, if that’s okay. Work uniform isn’t the comfiest for lounging around in,” she grins, gesturing at her slightly grubby black long-sleeved tee-shirt and skinny jeans.

“Yasmin Khan, you speak my language,” Jolie beams, rounding the bed to the left side and grabbing her own pyjamas from under the pillow and her glasses from the bedside table. “Right, I’ll leave you to it, I’ll be in the kitchen when I’m changed,” she confirms before slipping out of the room and shutting the door softly behind her. 

Yaz changes quickly, slipping into an oversized shirt and fluffy leggings, before unpacking the rest of her things and dropping her bag at the right side of the bed. She ambles around the room, taking in the personal touches. There are a few knick-knacks strewn about the various surfaces, mostly space and robot themed and it makes Yaz chuckle.  _ Man, my girlfriend is a nerd,  _ she laughs to herself. There’s a single framed photo on her bedside table; a younger version of her sitting smiling next to an older woman.  _ That must be her granny,  _ Yaz concludes. 

She’s snapped out of her thoughts by a loud clatter and a yelp from the kitchen, and goes to investigate.

Upon entering the kitchen, she’s greeted by the sight of her girlfriend in bright yellow pyjama shorts, a pale pink hoodie and blue polka dot fluffy socks, a guilty look on her face. 

“So, minor argument with the cutlery I forgot to put away this morning,” she says, gesturing to the cutlery surrounding her feet and the hand she’s holding under the tap. It’s then that Yaz realises she’s bleeding, and picks her way carefully through the mess on the floor to get to her.

“What on earth have you managed to do?” Yaz teases, grasping the hand under the stream of water and spotting the trickle of blood running from a small cut on the side of her thumb.

“I was trying to put this away, but I dropped the basket with all the cutlery and that one got me,” she states, glaring at a small but sharp knife lying on the bench. She hisses as Yaz inspects the afflicted thumb, turning off the water.

“It’s just a small cut, nothing to be worried about. Here, wrap this kitchen roll around it, tight, and hold your arm up above your head,” she instructs, tearing several sheets of kitchen roll from the stand and passing them over.

Jolie follows the instructions as Yaz bends down to start picking up the rest of the cutlery strewn about the kitchen. “You don’t have to do that,” Jolie protests, holding her hand up above her head. “Also, why exactly am I doing this?”

“First of all, I don’t mind cleaning up. Plus, you’ll probably hurt yourself again trying to clean this up yourself. And your hand is above your head to stop the bleeding. Elevating it temporarily restricts the blood flow, makes it stop faster. Plus you look silly,” she teases, straightening up as she picks up the last of the mess.

She earns a gasp of mock offence in response, before they both burst into giggles.

“First aid kit?”

“Cupboard above the kettle,” Jolie replies, sitting down at one of the stools at the island.

Upon opening the cupboard, Yaz does find a first aid kit, as well as what seems like an infinite amount of tea bags and packets of custard creams. She laughs, pulling a rectangular metal tin from the bottom shelf. “Babe, is this a biscuit tin filled with custard creams, shaped like a custard cream?” She teases, turning back to pull the first aid kit down too.

“Mmhmm,” comes the reply. “I’m deadly serious about my love of tea and custard creams.”

“I can tell,” she smiles, sitting down next to her girlfriend. “Here, let me have a look.”

Jolie brings her hand down, unwrapping the kitchen roll and presenting it to Yaz.

“See, all stopped!” Yaz exclaims, plucking a plaster from the first aid kit and wrapping it around the end of her thumb, placing a gentle kiss on the back of her hand before letting it rest back on the counter.

“Thanks,” Jolie mumbles, blushing furiously. Whether from embarrassment or being flustered from her girlfriend looking after her, Yaz isn’t sure, but she tucks the information away for future reference anyway. 

* * *

“Pizza’s here!” Jolie yells gleefully at the sound of a knock on the door, launching herself from the sofa and bounding towards the front door with the excitement of a child. Yaz laughs at her antics.  _ She’s such an idiot sometimes. She’s my idiot though.  _ She warms at the thought, blushing at being caught in her open admiration as Jolie walks back towards her holding two pizza boxes.

“Why do you look all guilty,” she questions, shooting Yaz a smirk as she sets the boxes down on the table.

“You were cute when you got all excited about the pizza. I mean, you’re cute anyway, but you were extra cute just then,” Yaz replies, working herself into a fluster.

Jolie simply stares back at her, frozen just as she was about to sit down.

“Ahh, I’m sorry, that was too much, wasn’t it. God, I’ve scared y-“ she short circuits, stumbling over her words.

It snaps Jolie out of her trance, and she sinks down next to her. “Babe, you’re fine. Just caught me a bit off guard, that’s all,” she murmurs, leaning closer until their lips meet, confirming just how okay she is with it. 

“Jolie, the pizza,” Yaz mumbles, not actually caring that much. She’d much rather kiss her girlfriend anyway. In response, Jolie flaps one hand in the general direction of the coffee table, the other moving up to cup Yaz’s cheek. She’s obviously of the same opinion.

It’s still new and clumsy and awkward first, more giggling and nose bumping than actual kissing, but they settle into it easy enough, taking the time to get to know each other. Yaz’s breath hitches in her throat when Jolie experimentally swipes her tongue across her counterpart’s bottom lip, and she hesitates. Jolie picks up on the moment of doubt from Yaz and pulls back gently, eyes soft and searching. 

“You okay?” she asks, voice so soft it makes Yaz melt a little.

She nods, swallowing the lump. “Yeah … just wasn’t expecting it,” she admits, staring at her lap in embarrassment. 

“Hey, it’s fine. I’m sorry if I were a bit overenthusiastic,” she apologises, patting Yaz’s knee. “Right, I reckon we should eat this pizza before it goes cold,” she states, opening the box closest to her and passing the other to Yaz. She smiles in thanks, both for the pizza and understanding her earlier hesitation.

The smile soon fades to a look of disgust when she eyes her girlfriend’s pizza. “Banana slices? Babe, seriously?”

“What?” Jolie says, pizza centimetres from her mouth. “You’ve got pineapple on yours,” she counters before taking a generous bite of her slice, her face a picture of bliss. Yaz sighs and laughs before digging into her own pizza, enjoying idle chatter as they work their way through the food.

“I’m full,” Yaz announces, sitting back and rubbing her belly, defeated by her last slice of pizza.

“Me too,” she agrees, standing up to pick up the boxes. “I’m just going to take these down to the outside bins, they’ll stink the place out if we leave them in here. Back in a tic!”

When she returns, Yaz is curled up into the corner of her sofa, frowning at her phone. She looks up and smiles though when her girlfriend returns.

“You okay?” Jolie asks, the frown on Yaz’s face having not gone amiss.

“Yeah, just my mum being a bit overbearing,” she replies, flicking her phone over to silent and setting it face down on the coffee table. She falters though when Jolie stays standing just inside the doorway, rubbing a hand up and down her forearm, her brow furrowing.

“You okay?” Yaz asks, patting the space next to her in an invitation for the restless blonde to sit down. She accepts the offer, perching on the edge of her sofa, fidgeting restlessly.

“What’s bothering you, babe?”

“Can I ask you something? You absolutely don’t have to answer though, up to you,” Jolie asks nervously, chewing her bottom lip in her usual telltale fashion that she was nervous about something.

Yaz looks at her apprehensively. “Erm, I guess. Depends what the question is.”

“Well, erm … Well, I was wondering why you’re taking time off from uni. You’re obviously very passionate about what you’re studying. It, it just doesn’t make sense I guess, and I’m curious.”

Yaz swallows heavily, a lump already forming in her throat as she wrings her hands together.

Jolie reaches out to place a hand on her shoulder, making Yaz jump slightly. “Yaz, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me right now, or ever. Just, if it’s something I can help with, I want to. Really.” Her voice is sincere and kind, and Yaz can tell she really does care.

Sighing heavily, Yaz looks up from where she’s fixed her eyes on a spot on the ground. “I want to tell you. I think … I think it’s something I have to. It’s just, I haven’t … I haven’t shared this with anyone that I’ve met since, since then. Just, don’t judge me, please?”

“No judgement, I promise,” she smiles, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before letting her hand come to rest in her own lap.

Yaz takes a deep breath, then her words all come tumbling out in one go before she can go back on her decision to share this information that she’d held so close to her chest for so long. “Okay, so I started dating someone at the beginning of Year 13. A guy called Nathan. It got serious pretty fast, and we were inseparable. He was my first boyfriend. Well, the only boyfriend I’ve had. We started going to uni together too. Not the same thing, he was doing sports science. He was pretty nice and everything when we were in Sixth Form, but I dunno, he started to change a bit when we started uni. I put it down to independence, change in lifestyle, new friends. A few of his mates told me that they had thought he was getting a little too friendly with some of the girls in his classes or on nights out, but I just thought they were messing with me. That’s just what he was like. We lived separately in student halls for the first year, but we had decided pretty quick that we would find a place together in second year. You know what it’s like trying to find somewhere to live.”

Yaz takes a deep lungful of air, an obvious tremble to her voice. Jolie reaches forward, placing the tips of her fingers ever so gently on the edge of Yaz’s knee, mindful that she might not want the contact at that moment. “Yaz, you can stop, if you want. You don’t have to tell me anything you’re not comfortable sharing.”

Yaz shakes her head, reaching out to clasp the hand on her knee in her own, using her other to wipe away a few stubborn tears that had escaped from her eyes.

“No, I want to tell you. I want someone to hear this all from my point of view.”

Jolie nods in understanding. “At your own pace, okay?”

Yaz returns the nod as Jolie gives her hand a squeeze. 

“It was after we moved in together that things started to really get bad. He started drinking and staying out late a lot, ignoring most of his uni work. And he got … well he got very … very controlling. He decided everything. Who we saw, what we did, what we ate. But he did it gradually, and I didn’t notice, not at first. And when I did, when I did notice and I tried to resist, he didn’t … he didn’t like it. It all came to head at the end of January this year,” Yaz chokes back tears at this admission, reaching up with a trembling hand to chew her fingernails. Jolie doesn’t say anything, letting Yaz decide whether or not to continue on her own. 

“He had gone home to visit family for Christmas, I had gone to spend time with mine, and they told me they were worried about me, worried about the state of my relationship with him. I got into a big fight with them, told them they were making things up and lying, which I really thought was true. We had been back at the flat together for about a week and there was … well something bad happened, and it all ended. I was only supposed to take that one semester off, but everything got so out of hand so fast, and I just couldn’t go back. I wasn’t ready for that, I wasn’t ready to, ready to...” Yaz breaks off, taking heaving breaths, eyes burning holes in her lap.

“Oh, Yaz. I had no idea.” Jolie opens her arms, inviting Yaz in for a hug. She shuffles towards her, leaning into her side heavily and accepting the sense of comfort gratefully. She concentrates on the smell of tea, apple shampoo and a faint hint of engine oil. Jolie moves her arm to rub firm, soothing circles between Yaz’s shoulder blades in an attempt to ground her but she doesn’t press the conversation any further; she doesn’t need to know exactly what happened, Yaz’s words are enough of an indication that what happened impacted her deeply, and she’s still trying to work through that. “I’m sorry that happened to you, but I’m so proud of you for getting out of that situation, and I’m so proud of you for telling me.”

Yaz looks up at Jolie, her bottom lip still quivering slightly “You’re proud of me?”

Jolie leans back slightly and crooks her finger under Yaz’s chin so she can turn her head to look at her. “Of course I am. It takes an immense amount of strength and courage to realise that you’re in that kind of a situation, and even more to get out of it. That’s a really big thing for you to share with me too. So yes, I’m so, so proud of you.”

Yaz doesn’t realise she’s started crying until her girlfriend reaches to brush away a few of the stray tears with the pad of her thumb. “Thank you. Thank you for listening, and not judging. That means a lot.”

Jolie nods, brushing a kiss against Yaz’s forehead. “Thank you for opening up to me. And I’m always here to talk about anything, you know that.”

Yaz nods, letting her head come to rest against Jolie’s shoulder, breathing in her familiar scent again. “The same goes for you, y’know. You can talk to me about stuff,” she mumbles, receiving a hum of agreement in response. 

They sit holding each other comfortably, bodies tucked together, Jolie’s chin resting on Yaz’s head, Yaz’s arm tucked around Jolie’s waist with her legs slung casually over her lap.

Eventually, Yaz has to shift, her arm having gone completely dead from Jolie’s body weight squishing it against the back of the sofa. Jolie grumbles in indignation when the block of warmth that is her girlfriend disappears. 

“Babe, my arm’s gone dead,” she says in explanation, shaking her wrist to prove her point and laughs as her girlfriend yawns and rubs her eyes. “A bit tired there?” she teases, poking Jolie’s side.

“Hmm. Been a long week. And you smell nice and you’re warm,” she replies, bashfully rubbing the back of her neck.

“Do you fancy watching that movie now?” Yaz asks, longing for the warmth of Jolie’s body pressed up against hers again.

At the suggestion, Jolie’s face lights up, akin to a puppy being asked if it wants to go on a walk.

“Ah! Yes! Do you wanna grab my laptop off my desk, I’ll get the snacks!”

Yaz smiles, fetching the laptop while Jolie is already whizzing around the kitchen grabbing various things from various cupboards. She’s perplexed however when she dashes towards the bedroom, and follows.

“Way comfier you watch a movie sitting in bed than on my sofa. That thing starts to feel like concrete on your butt after a while,” she explains without Yaz having to ask.

“Right, what are we watching then? Disney?” 

“Yes! Disney!” Yaz replies. You can never go wrong with a Disney movie.

“I’ve got Tangled, Moana, the original Lion King and Frozen,” Jolie reels off, taking the laptop from Yaz and settling onto her side of the bed.

“Moana,” Yaz states without hesitation, climbing up beside her.

“Moana it is.”

  
  


* * *

Movie watched, snacks eaten and inevitable crumbs cleaned up, they’re lying comfortably side by side. But Yaz can’t sleep, and has resorted to counting the glow in the dark stars on Jolie’s ceiling. She’s restless but she’s trying to stay still so as not to wake Jolie next to her. Apparently that’s not necessary though.

“Yaz, why are you still awake?” she asks, pushing back blonde locks that fall in front of her face when she adjusts to face Yaz properly.

Yaz huffs, rolling onto her side to face her girlfriend. “It’s stupid,” she replies, playing with the cuff of her pyjama shirt under the duvet.

“Uh-uh, not stupid if it’s keeping you awake, tell me.”

“I have a teddy that I usually hug to sleep. And apparently I can’t sleep without him,” Yaz mumbles, a flush of embarrassment working it’s way up her neck. Jolie reaches for her hand under the duvet and finds it, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“What’s the teddy’s name?”

“Huh?”

“Your teddy, what’s it called?”

“Buttons.”

“Right, I’m your Buttons substitute for tonight, and when you spend other nights here.”

Yaz simply raises her eyebrows, but the insinuation of her girlfriend’s seemingly unintentional words leave a warmth in her belly.  _ When, not if. _

“Hey, you need to hold something to sleep, I’m kinda squishy like a teddy bear, and to be honest, being cuddled by you doesn’t sound like a bad way to fall asleep,” she states, smiling shyly at the last remark.

“I s’pose that wouldn’t be too bad,” Yaz counters, a smile flirting across her lips.

“Come here then.” Jolie flips herself over so her back is to Yaz, shuffling back a bit as Yaz tentatively shuffles forward. She stays a couple of inches away but rests one arm over her girlfriend’s waist, the other tucking between her ribs and the mattress.

To her surprise, a hand grabs the wrist of the arm resting on her waist and tugs Yaz closer so their bodies are flush together, before tucking Yaz’s hand just below her ribs, her own hand holding it still.

“Night, babe,” she murmurs sleepily into her pillow.

“Night.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this hefty chapter! Comments and kudos are always appreciated :)
> 
> Chapter title is a lyric from this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1jQTtUgIrmI
> 
> A playlist featuring all the songs from this fic can be found here https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0T2wY8WE7DwBZGH1Ui0agQ


	7. You Make Me Light Up Like a Firefly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Is it too early to tell her I think she’s beautiful? Because she is. Oh god, I’ve left it too long now, it’ll be awkward if I say any-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another longer chapter! Hope you enjoy. Also big thank you to all of you who've left kudos and comments, I appreciate it more than I can properly express!
> 
> TW: Mention of family loss

When Yaz is dragged from sleep the next morning by her body clock, the room is pitch black and she’s left disorientated by her surroundings. The shuffle and a murmur at her side is alarming, until the figure flops over and she gets a face full of blonde hair that smells faintly like apples and sugary tea, and smiles.  _ I’m at my girlfriend’s flat. My girlfriend. _

She tries to brush the blonde hair out of her face as gently as she can so as not to wake her counterpart who’s snoring lightly at her side, and then rolls over to grab her phone from where it’s resting on the bedside table to check the time. 6 am.  _ Curse the early shift,  _ she groans internally, shutting the screen off and returning to lie on her back, hoping to get at least a little more sleep.

After a good 45 minutes of restless fidgeting and staring at the stars on the ceiling, Yaz is unsuccessful, having gotten too used to being up at this early hour. Grabbing her phone again, she pulls up the webpage of the place she’s planning on taking Jolie today. She runs over opening and closing times, transport and food options for the millionth time, her mind racing with adrenaline. Their first date, planned by Jolie, had been so perfect that she so desperately wants to get this right.

When the first hints of light start to peek their way around the gaps in the curtain, casting thin shards of lights across the rainbow-striped sheets, Yaz attempts to extricate her arm from where Jolie has rolled on top of it without waking her. She grumbles in her drowsiness, stirring slightly, and Yaz waits until she looks like she’s asleep again. Carefully sliding her arm the rest of the way out, she pads through to the bathroom to wash before her prayers, the familiar movements a welcome start to her day, making her feel like she’s really at home here. 

She’s standing in the middle of the living room/office, trying to figure out which direction she’s facing when a loud yawn and a bump alerts her to her girlfriend’s presence in the room. She grins at her adorable sleep-doused state; hoodie sleeves pulled over her hands, scrunched up fluffy socks and ruffled hair, a part in the middle sticking straight up from her head. She looks impossibly soft like this, and Yaz’s heart flutters a little at the sight.

“Mornin’,” she murmurs, rubbing at her hip absent-mindedly, which Yaz connects to the bump she heard.

“Mornin’. Your hip okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Walked into the doorframe. Early hours, steering’s a bit off,” she smiles, leaning against the wall as she stifles a yawn.

Yaz simply chuckles, her heart warming as her girlfriend smiles back. 

“Do you happen to know which way is south-east?” she asks, gesturing vaguely around the room.

“Erm, that way,” Jolie replies, pointing to the window in the corner of the kitchen as she scrunches her face up in thought. “Why?”

“Oh, that’s the direction of the Qibla. For prayers,” she adds, when Jolie throws her back a quizzical look.

“Oh, right. Sorry, should have remembered that.”

“Hey, you’re fine. Do you mind if I borrow this?” Yaz asks, pointing at a blanket draped over the back of the sofa.

“Go ahead! I’m just going to go and take a shower, sort out this mess” she smiles, gesturing vaguely at her head before walking away to give Yaz some privacy.

* * *

When Jolie emerges from the shower, hair damp but significantly less dishevelled and drying into soft waves and curls, she’s greeted by the sight and smell of two plates of pancakes, topped with strawberries and whipped cream. She grins broadly and unashamedly at the sight, and Yaz’s shy smile in return is enough to render them both a little flushed at the ease of the situation.

“I hope you don’t mind me raiding your cupboards, but I made breakfast,” Yaz says, shrugging shyly and pushing one of the plates across the island as an offering.

“Pancakes with Yaz? Brilliant!” she exclaims, sliding onto a barstool and taking a generous forkful of the meal, patting the stool next to her for Yaz to sit down, which she does.

“So, what do you have planned for today?” She asks through a mouthful of strawberries and pancakes.

Yaz smiles, pulling up the webpage on her phone and leaning over to show it to Jolie, bumping their shoulders together gently, blushing at the contact.

“Butterfly house and petting zoo,” she states, handing over her phone. “There are some animal experiences we can do, birds of prey shows, and a good restaurant.”

“Oh my god there are meerkats! I love meerkats! Yaz, we have to see the meerkats!” She exclaims excitedly, her face lighting up like a child.

“So that’s a yes?”

“Of course, absolutely. Meerkats and Yaz, couldn’t be better,” she grins.

“The bus ride there is about an hour though, that okay with you?”

“I can drive,” she shrugs, a puzzled look crossing her face when Yaz sniggers. “Hey, are you questioning my driving skills?”

“No, no, I’m sure your driving skills are stellar. It’s just, you … erm … you’ve got a bit of a cream moustache going on there,” she laughs, gesturing at her own upper lip.

“Oh.”

“Yeah, do you mind if I -“ Yaz asks, reaching for a piece of kitchen roll, swiping it across her girlfriend’s lip as they stare at each other awkwardly.

“Erm, thanks,” Jolie mumbles, her cheeks flushing as she struggles to break away her lingering gaze on Yaz’s hand. 

Yaz swallows thickly and Jolie does the same, both of them sporting a ’deer in headlights’ look.

Jolie coughs awkwardly, breaking the silence. “Right, I’ll wash these dishes if you want to go and get ready?” 

“Erm … yeah. That … that sounds like a plan.”

* * *

“So, how do you rate my driving skills, Yaz?” Jolie asks as they step out of the car, smiling hopefully.

“Better than my sister, worse than my dad,” she replies, grinning wickedly.

Jolie scoffs, “Worse than your dad?”

“My dad drives like an old woman. I mean, it’s safe, but painfully slow. So you might actually be better,” Yaz laughs, grabbing her backpack from the footwell.

“I’m not sure if that’s a compliment, but I’m taking it as one.”

“It’s definitely a compliment, babe,” Yaz croons, slotting her hand comfortably into Jolie’s, smiling warmly.

* * *

“Yaz! Yaz, look at those meerkats! Look how freaking cute they are, their little noses, oh my god, I’m going to die from cuteness overload!”

Yaz laughs at her girlfriend’s childlike enthusiasm, happily swinging their hands between them as they wander along the edge of the meerkat enclosure.

“Y’know, you remind me a bit of a meerkat sometimes,” she teases, giggling as her girlfriend makes the exact face she’s thinking of.

“There! When you scrunch your face up like that, you look all cute adorable like a little baby meerkat!”

Jolie blushes deeply, almost tripping over her own two feet in her haste to hide the crimson flush working its way rapidly up her neck. “Y’think I’m adorable?” she mumbles, peering at Yaz shyly through blonde waves.

Now it’s Yaz’s turn to fumble through her words. “Yeah, I do. You’re … I think you’re adorable,” she returns.  _ Is it too early to tell her I think she’s beautiful? Because she is. Oh god, I’ve left it too long now, it’ll be awkward if I say any- _

“I think you’re adorable too,” her girlfriend replies with a touch more confidence to her tone, unknowingly saving Yaz from her rambling thoughts.  _ Another time.  _

They turn and smile at each other, any awkwardness dissipating with this unexpected and small development in their relationship.

* * *

“Okay, I take back my earlier statement, snakes are cuter,” Jolie coos at the pale pink corn snake currently hanging off the keeper’s forearm. Her badge reads  _ Kate _ and she laughs at Yaz’s reaction to the blonde’s statement.

“Snakes are … cuter than meerkats, babe?” she queries, standing a safe distance away from the animal, eyeing it cautiously.

“Yeah! Look at its cute little tongue!”

It draws a laugh from both Yaz and Kate. “Would you like to hold him?” she asks, unwinding his body from her wrist.

Jolie nods eagerly, holding out her arms as Kate drapes the snake across them.

“What’s he called?” she asks, lifting an arm so she can get a better look at his face.

“Trevor. He was named by a group of school children,” she offers in explanation, a bemused look on her face as Jolie begins speaking to Trevor like one would a puppy or a baby. Yaz laughs at the sight. She’s never known someone to talk to a snake like this before.

“Yaz, can you take a picture of me and Trevor please?” She asks, and Yaz happily obliges, snapping a picture of her girlfriend giving a goofy thumbs up with the snake still draped across her arms, sticking her tongue out to match Trevor.

“You’re ridiculous,” she laughs, pocketing her phone again and continues to watch her girlfriend bonding with her new buddy.

“You want a go, babe?” she asks, holding out her arms to offer the snake.

“Erm … I think I’m good for now,” she replies, taking a tiny step backwards.

“Yaz, are you scared of snakes?” she asks, cocking her head to one side and smiling teasingly.

“Hmm, let’s call it cautious rather than scared,” she replies.

“You could just touch his back if you like,” Kate offers.

Yaz nods nervously, taking a step closer to Jolie, who now has a puzzled look on her face. “Wait where did his head go?” she asks, staring at his tail end.

“I think he found a spot in your hoodie,” Kate replies, just as Trevor pops his head out of Jolie’s pocket.

“Oh, hey buddy! There you are!”

* * *

“Man, it’s warm in here,” Yaz exclaims as they walk through the butterfly house, pulling her hand away from Jolie’s to slip her leather jacket from her shoulders.

“Sorry, my hands are kinda sweaty,” Jolie says sheepishly when Yaz pulls hers away.

“Mine are too, don’t worry about it. We could pinky link if you still want to hold hands?” She suggests shyly.

Jolie looks back at her with a quizzical expression. “What’s a pinky link?”

“Oh. It’s something my mum used to do with Sonya and I when we were little. You link your little fingers when it’s too warm to hold hands,” she replies.

“Oh, well in that case, I would love to pinky link with you, Yasmin Khan,” she smiles, dropping a kiss to her forehead and grinning bashfully.

They work their way slowly through the winding paths that make up the butterfly house, Jolie wanting to move onto each new section as soon as she can in her excitement, Yaz encouraging her to slow down and read the information plaques and see how many butterflies, lizards and small birds they can seek out through closer inspection of the dense plant life. 

Jolie is a little way ahead of her, Yaz taking her time to watch a caterpillar wriggle along the stem of a plant, when she spots her girlfriend freeze on the spot out the corner of her eye, her mouth in the shape of an ‘o’.

“Jo, why are you looking at me like that?” She asks warily, still partially crouched down from where she was watching the caterpillar.

A strange expression flits over Jolie’s face, but it’s soon replaced by a warm grin and leaves Yaz wondering if she made it up. “No, no, it’s nothing bad, you’ve just got a  _ huge _ butterfly on your back,” she smiles, pointing to Yaz’s shoulder.

“Oh,” Yaz breathes, returning the smile. “Can you take a picture?”

“Already on it,” Jolie grins, pulling her phone out and creeping closer to Yaz so as to not startle the butterfly gently flapping its wings on her back. Jolie snaps a picture right in the moment before the butterfly decides it’s had enough and flies away.

The blonde turns her phone so Yaz can see the picture, and it was indeed a big butterfly. “Woah. I wonder what species that was,” she says to no one in particular.

“Paper kite butterfly,” Jolie replies, linking her little finger with Yaz’s again as they continue to move through the pathways.

“How did you know that?”

“Bit of a general nerd, me. Not just limited to physics and engineering and space,” she winks, making Yaz blush.

“So just butterflies in particular, or other things?”

“I really like nature documentaries, I watched them all the time growing up. I guess I just absorbed most of the information, and now I like learning about animals whenever I get the chance.”

“That’s really cool,” Yaz replies as they sink onto a bench just off the main walkway. “Any cool paper kite butterfly facts for me?”

“Of course, all the cool facts for my Yaz. Well, they have a wingspan of 12-14 centimetres, and they’re mostly found in southeast Asia. Oh, but the coolest part is that both the grown butterfly and the larva are poisonous!” she rambles, laughing at Yaz’s worried expression.

“Wait, the butterfly that was on me is poisonous?”

“Yes, but it can only hurt you if you eat it, which somehow I don’t think you’d do,” she chuckles, poking Yaz’s waist teasingly.

Yaz huffs. “I knew that,” she mumbles, letting loose a small smile.

“Of course you did.”

* * *

They’re almost out of the butterfly house, Jolie still rambling about various bugs and butterflies and lizards and fish when they’re stopped by a small boy tugging on the hem of Yaz’s blouse, his eyes looking a little lost and teary.

Yaz looks down, tugging on Jolie’s hand at the same time to get her attention, given she’s still rambling.

“Hey, sweetheart. You okay?” She asks, crouching down to his level. The small boy’s lower lip begins to quiver and his eyes well up.

“Hey, it’s fine,” she soothes, glancing at Jolie beside her with a worried expression. 

“I - I can’t find - my mummy - or my daddy,” he hiccups, tears running down his cheeks.

“Do you want us to help you find them?” Jolie asks, having caught up with the situation now. The little boy nods, reaching up for Jolie’s hand, much to her surprise.

“Are you okay with this?” Yaz mouths, nodding towards where the small boy has clasped her hand in his, aware of the fact that she’s not always the most comfortable with involuntary contact. She nods, smiling before turning to look down at him again.

“Can you tell me what you name is, buddy? And how old are you?” She asks, and Yaz is grateful for her logical head in this situation.

“Max,” he replies. “And I’m three,” he adds, holding up the corresponding number of fingers proudly as to prove his point, making them smile.

“Well, nice to meet you, Max. I’m Jolie, and this is Yaz. We’re going to walk you to the place where we can find your mummy and daddy, okay?”

He nods, happy to toddle along at Jolie’s side as they walk out of the butterfly house and along the path to the reception centre where it stated on the map that lost children should go. The sight of her girlfriend chattering away to Max like it’s the most natural thing in the world makes her heart flutter in her chest, and it hits her like a ton of bricks.

They make it to the office quickly, and upon walking in a worried-looking couple standing in the corner turn around, Max’s face lighting up as he breaks away from Jolie and runs towards them, gleefully. 

“Max! Where were you, we were so worried about you,” the woman cries, scooping her son up into her arms and squeezing him tight.

“I wanted to see the rainbow lizard again and then I couldn’t find you, but then I found some nice people just like you told me too. I’m sorry mummy,” he pouts, and his mother pulls him into a hug again.

“That’s okay Max, you were really good and did just what we told you to. And we’ve got you now, haven’t we?” She replies, before turning towards Jolie and Yaz standing awkwardly in the doorway. 

“Thank you for looking out for him, really,” she thanks sincerely, stepping forward and offering her free hand for one of them to shake, which Yaz takes while Jolie settles for a simple nod of acknowledgement.

“Oh, it was no problem. He did the right thing,” Yaz replies.

“Not everyone would be as kind as you two. Oh, what are your names, by the way?”

“I’m Jolie, and this is Yaz,” she supplies, slotting her hand back into Yaz’s.

“Well, it was really lucky he found you two. Seriously, thank you again. Is there anything we can do to say thank you?” she asks, passing her son over to her husband so they can talk more easily.

Yaz and Jolie glance at each other momentarily, before turning back to the woman. “No, you’re fine, really. He’s back here, that’s enough,” Yaz smiles, bidding their goodbyes before heading back out of the building and into the bright November sun.

“You were really good with him,” Yaz muses in open admiration of her girlfriend’s way with the little boy.

Jolie simply shrugs, blushing a little. “I used to babysit as a teenager for some extra money, had a bit of practice,” she replies. “Okay, but how about lunch, I’m getting hungry,” she adds, her belly rumbling particularly loudly as if on command.

Yaz laughs, squeezing her hand and tugging her closer. “Lunch it is.”

* * *

They head back to Jolie’s flat earlier than expected thanks to an unfortunate downturn in the weather, and now they have a couple of hours until Yaz is due back home for dinner.

“I’m glad we got that kid back to his parents today,” Jolie muses, throwing her keys down on the kitchen island and turning her old battered radio on quietly as she makes a beeline for the kettle. “Tea? I’m desperate for one.”

Yaz nods in agreement, settling down on one of the stools to watch her girlfriend bobbing around the kitchen, her tea making and biscuit acquiring almost like a dance in time to the music streaming from the radio.

Jolie eventually hands her the cup of tea, sliding her custard cream tin onto the island and sitting down next to her with a satisfied sigh. “Love tea me,” she grins into her mug, making Yaz smile.

“Speaking of parents,” Yaz says, taking a biscuit from the tin, “mine want to meet you.”

She looks tentatively at her girlfriend, whose face is a little surprised, but a lot less alarmed than Yaz had expected.

“Oh. Erm, yeah, I suppose we could do that,” she affirms, crunching a biscuit to calm her nerves.

“We don’t have to yet if you don’t want to. I can put it off, tell them we’re too busy.”

“No, no, it’s fine. They want to meet me, I’d like to meet them properly. No point in delaying it,” she shrugs, popping the rest of the biscuit into her mouth and dusting the crumbs from her hands.

“Okay then. I’ll talk to them and we can work out a time then,” Yaz replies, stealing the biscuit that her girlfriend was reaching for and grinning mischievously.

* * *

It turns out that the only date they can all do within the next month is the following Friday evening, and that’s how Yaz finds herself walking back to her flat, except this time hand in hand with her girlfriend. They’re both so nervous they’re practically vibrating, so Yaz takes initiative and leads them both over to a bench at the side of the path, sitting down.

“We’re both way too nervous, aren’t we,” she says, sighing heavily. 

“Mmhmm,” Jolie nods. “Why are you so nervous?”

Yaz pouts at having to be the first one to share their insecurities, elbowing Jolie lightly in protest. “My parents are still coming round to the idea of, well, us. I’m worried they’re going to say something hurtful, something to hurt you. They’re very overprotective, because of … well you know why.”

Jolie nods thoughtfully. “Valid points, Yaz. They’ve asked to meet me though, so that must mean they  _ want _ this to work, right?”

“That’s true. But why are you so nervous, hmm?”

Jolie sighs. She knew she wouldn’t get out of this that easily. “You see, the thing is, I’ve never … I’ve never gotten far enough into a relationship to warrant a family dinner.”

“Oh.” Yaz stares at her a second, before regaining her composure. “That’s fine. I didn’t realise, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, don’t apologise. Past dates were … not so great,” she says, laughing and scrunching her face up.

“Oh, so I’m better than not so great then, am I,” Yaz teases, her lips curling into a smirk.

“Hmm, you’re just above average I’d say,” the blonde retorts, not missing a beat.

Yaz huffs in mock indignation. “Jolene Smith, you’re a terrible flirt,” she quips teasingly, causing both of them to burst into giggles.

* * *

“Mum, Dad, we’re here!” Yaz calls as she unlocks the front door, stepping inside and taking Jolie’s hand to pull her in behind her. The flat is seemingly empty until Najia pops her head around the corner of the kitchen wall, causing both of them to jump slightly. 

“Yaz!” she exclaims, pulling her daughter into a tight hug, leaving Jolie standing awkwardly in the doorway.

“What’s this about, mum? I only saw you a couple of hours ago,” Yaz laughs as she attempts to extricate herself from the crushing hug.

“Feels longer, that’s all. Barely get to see you these days,” she shrugs, before stepping around her daughter and making a beeline for the blonde standing in the doorway. “And you must be Jolie!” she beams, thankfully offering her hand, which Jolie shakes firmly, rather than a hug.

“Nice to meet you properly, Yaz’s mum,” she smiles, Yaz nodding reassuringly from behind.

“Please, call me Najia. Now, Hakim is still arguing with the korma, would you mind waiting for a bit?”

“Of course mum,” Yaz answers, taking Jolie’s hand and leading her through to the living room. “Word of wisdom, don’t always trust my dad’s cooking,” she whispers, pulling a muted laugh from her girlfriend.

* * *

“We’d love to meet your parents one day, Jolie,” Najia says warmly, scooping a generous helping of her curry onto her naan bread.

Yaz’s breath catches in the back of her throat and her gaze moves to her girlfriend, who is staring intently at her plate. 

“I - erm - that won’t - erm, my parents aren’t around anymore,” she mumbles, skin flushing.

“Oh, I’m sorry, love, we didn’t realise. We’d love to meet your family then, whoever you want,” she replies innocently, not aware of the significance of her words.

“That’s not … I mean -” she stutters, before standing up, pushing her chair back roughly, shaking hard. “I just … I just need a minute,” she mutters, already heading for the front door in a whirlwind of emotions.

Najia’s face is frozen, her bread halfway to her mouth, and Hakim has to gently move it back towards her plate.

“Did we - did we say something wrong?” she asks, her face filled with worry and concern.

“I don’t think she has any family,” Yaz says quietly. “At least she’s never mentioned any.”

Najia’s mouth moves into a silent ‘o’ of realisation.

“I’m gonna go after her,” Yaz states, grabbing both of their coats from the hook behind the front door, slipping out onto the walkway. Not seeing any sign of her either way, Yaz makes a beeline for the lifts, deciding to head down rather than up. She’s mid-way through the descent when she spots Jolie walking out of the building beneath her, arms wrapped tightly around her waist, shoulders hunched and steps slightly wobbly.

When she’s reached the bottom, Yaz practically runs out of the lift and onto the forecourt, scanning for her girlfriend. A hunched figure sits on the edge of the steps, forearms resting on her thighs and head hanging low. The position is somehow both defensive and completely vulnerable and makes her way over, cautiously, slowly.

“Jolie, it’s Yaz. Just coming up on your right,” she reassures, taking care not to startle her as she comes to sit next to her. She notes that her cheeks are marked with tear tracks and her eyes are shiny, staring unseeing at the ground.

“It’s cold, I brought your coat. Do you want it?” 

Jolie nods, but when she makes no move to accept the coat herself, Yaz makes the executive decision to wrap it around her shoulders. She goes to move away again, but Jolie leans into her touch and it stops her in her tracks.

“I’m sorry,” the blonde mumbles, her shoulders tensing. “I’m sorry for ruining your family dinner.”

“Babe, you haven’t ruined anything,” Yaz replies, rubbing soothing, gentle circles between her shoulder blades.

“No, I have, I’ve ruined it all,” she chokes out, the barrier to her emotions unceremoniously breaking down and allowing them to flood her body.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Yaz soothes, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend’s shuddering form. “It’s okay, just let it out,” she murmurs, letting Jolie bury her head in her shoulder as her pent-up emotions come pouring out of her. When her sobs have slowed to quiet sniffles and the occasional hiccup, Yaz pulls back slightly, tucking blonde locks behind ears and wiping her face with the pad of her thumb.

“Y’know, when I said last week that you can talk to me about stuff, I really did mean it. If there’s anything you want to talk to me about, whenever you’re comfortable. I’ll be right here to listen,” she murmurs into her hair, feeling her girlfriend shift under her.

There are several moments of silence, before the blonde speaks up timidly. “Sitting around a table, having a family dinner, it scared me. I don’t … I don’t have a family, I haven’t for a while, and it was all too familiar, but completely alien. It really scared me,” she admits softly.

“That’s okay,” Yaz murmurs in response, giving her girlfriend’s shoulder a squeeze.

Yaz can feel Jolie starting to relax in her grasp, her breathing becoming more regular and her muscles losing their tension. 

“It was just me and my granny growing up. My parents passed away when I was a toddler, I don’t remember them, not really. My mum didn’t have any other family, and my dad only had a brother in the states. My granny was the one that brought me up, taught me everything she knew. She passed away when I was 18. She would have … she would have been 80 next week,” she murmurs, barely loud enough for Yaz to hear.

“Oh, babe, I’m sorry. I’m sorry I asked you to come here tonight.”

“No, Yaz it’s okay. You didn’t know, you couldn’t have known. I didn’t know it would make me feel like this,” she mumbles, eyes dark with sincerity. “Please, I’m not mad at you,” she adds for good measure.

In response, Yaz kisses the top of her head affectionately, sighing deeply. “We don’t have to stay if you don’t want you. I can walk you home, and I can come back here, give you some space if you want me to.”

Jolie shakes her head sharply. “No, I want - I want to stay. For a bit anyway. And I want you to come back to my flat, if that’s okay with you, I mean.”

“Of course that’s okay,” Yaz replies, squeezing her shoulders. “C’mon, let’s get inside, it’s freezing out here, and your jeans are probably a bit damp,” she teases gently, standing up and offering her hand, which Jolie takes, pulling herself to her feet. 

Upon a quick inspection of the back of her legs, Yaz’s assumption is confirmed with a scrunch of the blonde’s nose. “Yeah, you’re right. Jeans are pretty damp.”

“It’s okay, you can borrow a pair of mine if you like,” Yaz replies as they begin to walk back towards the building, looping their arms together.

“Thank you,” Jolie mumbles, resting her head on Yaz’s shoulder as they ascend back to the warmth of the Khan flat.

* * *

“Is this the famous Buttons?” the blonde asks once they’re in the warmth of Yaz’s bedroom, picking up the slightly threadbare blue teddy from the end of Yaz’s bed, smiling timidly.

“Yeah. He’s seen better days,” she chuckles, handing her girlfriend a dry pair of jeans and turning her back to give her some privacy to change. 

She only turns back around when she feels the bed dip behind her as Jolie sits down. 

“Yaz?”

“Yeah,” she replies, frowning when she realises Jolie is welling up a little again. “What’s up?”

“Last week … last week at the butterfly house, you called me Jo. I haven’t … erm, I haven’t let anyone call me that since, since my granny.”

“Oh, I’m sorry babe. I’ll not use that, just stick to Jolie if you want me to.”

“No no no. What I meant to say, is that, I didn’t hate it like I normally do. It didn’t feel wrong, coming from you. You can call me Jo sometimes, if you like, I mean,” she mumbles, falling over her words in her haste to push them out into the open.

Yaz swallows audibly at the weight of the statement her girlfriend just made, and the amount of trust and confidence it means she’s placing in her. 

“I’d be honoured.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all good? Okay :)
> 
> Chapter title is from this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wC5FmEGFUCU
> 
> A playlist featuring all the songs from this fic can be found here https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0T2wY8WE7DwBZGH1Ui0agQ
> 
> As always, feel free to come say hi, leave me prompts/ideas of just yell at me over at @emmyphant on tumblr


	8. Our Fading Scars Just Shooting Stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She’s been nothing but kind. She’s never made me feel unsafe, and if I’ve ever felt unsafe and she’s been there, she’s been the one to bring me back to earth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helllooo, another day, another chapter. This one is *very* big on the hurt/comfort, so there are some specific trigger warnings:
> 
> tw: nightmare/flashback  
> tw: panic attack  
> tw: vomiting  
> tw: mention of past domestic abuse
> 
> If you're uncomfortable with any of these topics, they're only mentioned in the second "part" of this chapter. Feel free to drop me a message over on tumblr @emmyphant if you want a summary of just that section, or the whole chapter. Okay...enjoy

Yaz almost jumps out of her skin when that Sunday morning, she steps out of her bedroom, rubbing sleep from her eyes, only to be face to face with her mother.

“Geez! Mum, can you not sneak up on me this early on a Sunday, of all days, please?” she groans, sliding past to the kitchen for a much needed cup of tea.

“Yaz, you get up at five thirty every day for work, and it’s currently eight, I wouldn’t call that early,” she retorts, quick off the mark.

“That’s...that’s not the point, mum. Anyway, was there a reason for the ambush?” Yaz replies, filling the kettle with water and flicking the switch.

“Your attitude is straying a bit close to your sister’s, mind you.”

Yaz spins around, a guilty look on her face. “Sorry.”

“Hmm, I’ll let you off this time, I did startle you. But yes, it was intentional. I just wanted to talk to you about how you’re getting on with Jolie. I’m … curious.”

_ Oh boy, here come the questions.  _ Yaz takes her tea bag out of her mug, binning it and slides into the chair beside her mum.

“What do you want to know then,” she asks, looking up suspiciously.

“Are you happy with her?”

“Yes, very,” Yaz replies, without even a hint of hesitation. 

Najia watches her with a measured gaze, trying to figure out if she’s telling the truth. “You sure spend a lot of time together,” she muses, taking a sip from her mug of tea.

“I like her, I like spending time with her,” Yaz shrugs.

“Hmm. She’s kind to you though, right?”

Yaz winces, despite knowing that that question was coming. Opting to sit down next to her mum, she looks her straight in the eye. “Yes, she’s been nothing but kind. She’s never made me feel unsafe, and if I’ve ever felt unsafe and she’s been there, she’s been the one to bring me back to earth.”

Najia nods in thought as Yaz waits anxiously for her answer. 

“I do trust you, love, but I can’t help but worry, you know that?”

“I do mum, but please believe me, I’ll tell someone if anything’s wrong.”

“I believe you, love.”

Yaz glances down at her mug, choosing her next words carefully. “Mum, can I ask? Are you worrying because of what happened with him, because I’m dating a woman, or is it just general motherly concern?”

“The first and the last thing.”

“So you’re okay with me dating a woman?”

Najia looks at her solemnly. “Yes and no. I’m okay with it because she makes you happy, and it’s not my place to tell you who you can and can’t date. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it though, your dad too. We’ll get there though,” she reassures.

“I can deal with that.”

* * *

November skids into the middle of December at an alarming pace, and before she knows it, Jolie has settled into a regular routine with university, work, her girlfriend and her new friends. Unfortunately the weather isn’t such a good reflection of her general sunny disposition, and it’s starting to bring moods down a little. The walk from campus back to her flat is miserable to say the least; it was cold and dark and Jolie is definitely a little bit grumpy as a result of the day, which she chooses to express by flopping face-down onto her sofa the minute they get in. 

“I am so  _ done _ with today. It’s miserable and cold and the guys on my course were being awful again and just  _ ugh _ .”

Yaz settles down next to her as she pulls herself up into a sitting position, crossing her legs underneath her and sighing heavily.

“What do you mean, the guys on your course?”

Jolie frowns, picking at a loose thread in her sleeve. “Mostly just the usual stuff, Neanderthals that think girls aren’t smart enough to be engineers. Which is an outright lie and they know it.”

Yaz pats her knee sympathetically, although pulling her hand away when Jolie winces at t touch. “They seriously still exist, natural selection hasn’t wiped them out yet?” she retorts, earning a small chuckle.

“Unfortunately they do. I wish I could just tune out their comments sometimes, they’re so rude. Especially Omar, he’s the human equivalent of a wet sock,” she grumbles, looking up at Yaz when she snorts loudly.

“A wet sock? Jo, you’re 22, please don’t tell me you just used that as an insult,” she grins, unable to control the laughter bubbling up inside her.

It’s infectious, and Jolie finds herself laughing along. “Oi! It’s a great insult Yaz, nobody likes wet socks!”

“Whatever you say, you peanut. Now, food and a movie?”

“Food and a movie indeed. I vote pasta and The Book Thief.”

* * *

Jolie wakes in the early hours of the morning to a broken cry, and she rubs sleep from her groggy eyes, trying to determine where the sound came from.  _ What time is it?  _ Fortunately, it doesn’t take long for her to determine the source of the sound, when the form lying next to her whimpers in her sleep, breaths quickening, caught in the grip of what appears to be a particularly nasty nightmare.

She shakes her shoulder gently, other arm still draped over Yaz’s waist. “C’mon Yaz, wake up,” she murmurs into her ear, knowing it’s safer to wake her up gently.

Instead of waking up though, she writhes against the sheets, brow furrowing as she cries out again. “No, no, please no! No, don’t do it!”  _ She needs to wake up, now.  _ Jolie readjusts so she can use both arms to more effectively wake her up, but as she drags her hand across Yaz’s exposed stomach from where her sleep shirt has ridden up from her restlessness, and she feels several distinct, raised lines marking the side of her otherwise smooth torso. She barely has time to register before Yaz’s eyes snap open, wide and wild with fear as she desperately tries to move herself away from Jolie. She doesn’t acknowledge the kick to the shin or the elbow to the stomach, her only concern is Yaz who has scrambled out of the bedroom and stumbled in the direction of the bathroom. 

Jolie practically falls out of bed in her hurry to get to Yaz, and on the way out of the room she hears what she can only presume to be Yaz dropping to her knees with a painful  _ thunk _ . Upon entering the bathroom, she’s smacked with the sight of her girlfriend leaning over the toilet bowl as she retches and coughs, her whole body shaking. Hard.

“Yaz, babe? What’s wrong?” Jolie asks, rubbing dregs of sleep from her eyes, her voice laced with concern as she reaches out a hand to place between Yaz’s shoulder blades in comfort, but it’s slapped away violently.

“Stay away from me!” Yaz yells, shrinking into herself, her eyes red and wet and terrified.

Jolie steps back, trying to keep her demeanour as calm and collected as possible, even though her own heart is racing and she feels sick with worry for her girlfriend’s state. She’s seen her have panic attacks before, and she’s learnt the best way to deal with them, but not this. It’s like a whole other person is in her flat, and she’s 95% certain she knows what it’s about.

Jolie backs up until she’s out the bathroom door and has reached the wall opposite, sliding down until she’s sitting on the floor, crossing her legs and letting her hands lie in her lap in what she hopes is a non-threatening position.

It pains her to watch from a distance as her girlfriend continues to shake and cough violently, but she can see her posture weakening until she’s eventually resting her forehead on the edge of the porcelain seat, breathing heavily.

“Yaz, is it okay if I come a bit closer?” she asks tentatively, keeping her voice calm and quiet. 

The nod she receives is so slight she would have missed it if she weren’t so familiar with her girlfriend’s body language, but it’s still a nod all the same. She shuffles forward on her butt, slowly and carefully. Yaz lifts her head to watch her move, her eyes notably red and raw. 

When her girlfriend is within reach, Yaz reaches a hand out desperately and as soon as Jolie takes it she collapses into her, body shaking and shivering. 

“It’s okay Yaz, you’re okay. You’re safe, you’re on my bathroom floor, in my flat, you’re going to be just fine, okay?” she soothes, wrapping her arms protectively around her small, shuddering frame and rocking her gently like a baby.

Yaz’s grip on her knee is iron-like, and Jolie moves one hand so she can run her fingers through her hair, just behind her ear. She flinches at the contact at first and Jolie pulls her hand back, but the loosening grip on her knee prompts her to try again. As she works gently to soothe her girlfriend, Yaz lets out a heavy breath she didn’t know she was holding, sinking her weight further into her lap.

“Yaz, do we mind if we move to the sofa? The bathroom floor isn’t the comfiest, is it? I think I’m getting tile imprints in the backs of my legs,” she murmurs in question, and Yaz nods, sitting up slightly and roughly scrubbing at her eyes with the heel of her hand.

“Can I touch your elbows to help you up?” she asks, receiving another nod. She stands, reaching down and taking Yaz’s elbows gently to help guide her to her feet and to the sofa, where she settles her down and turns for the kitchen.

“Here you go,” she says, perching at the other end of the sofa and handing her a glass of water, only letting go when she’s sure Yaz has a strong grip on it. “You were having a nightmare,” she states gently, and Yaz nods slightly, staring intently at the glass clasped between her still shaking hands.

“I were dreaming about him,” she mumbles, pushing her loose hair out of her face with her hand.

Jolie doesn’t say anything, just sits quietly with the patience of a god as she lets Yaz collect herself.

“There was one night, we got into a fight. He had come home, late, really drunk, and I had seen him with another woman, on snapchat. I confronted him about it, but he denied it and just got more and more angry, told me I was making things up because I was jealous,” she explains, as if she’s reciting from a script but she’s frowning with the effort of keeping her voice steady.

“He grabbed another bottle of beer, started trying to drink it and I told him not to, that he’d had too much and needed to get himself under control.” She pauses to take a steadying breath, running her thumb up and down the side of the glass of water.

“He started waving the bottle about, and then he smashed it against the kitchen bench, right next to where I was standing,” she says, her voice breaking. “Someone had called the police about the noise, and an officer found me on the kitchen floor,” she finishes, voice giving way to quiet hiccups.

“Oh, Yaz,” Jolie sighs, opening her arms in an invitation of a hug, which Yaz accepts gratefully, burying her face into Jolie’s shoulder and crying quietly. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she mumbles, pushing herself up to wipe roughly at her eyes again. 

“Hey, Yaz, you’ve got nothing to be sorry about,” she argues, gaze firm until Yaz nods in acceptance, sinking back into the hug.

After a few moments of silence, it occurs to Jolie that she needs to tell her girlfriend something.

“Yaz, I’m sorry, but when I … when I tried to wake you up, I felt the scars,” she admits, eyes seeking Yaz’s anxiously as she processes the information. Yaz blinks slowly, and gives a small nod.

“Did you see them?” 

“No, only felt, very briefly. I promise,” she affirms reassuringly.

“Can you not -?” Yaz asks, gesturing vaguely to her side.

“Not unless you’re comfortable, no.”

Yaz nods slightly. “Thank you,” she murmurs, eyes heavy as she leans back into her.

Jolie decides not to move, feeling herself start to tire from the unexpected events of their night and the exhaustion of a long week of classes and coursework and her job. She starts when she begins to slip from her upright position, the warm, solid weight of Yaz against her not helping in her state of semi-consciousness. Knowing that ending up sleeping on the sofa will probably not do either of them any good, she attempts to rouse the woman curled comfortably into her side, with no more success than a small grumble as she pushes her face further into her collarbone.

“C’mon Yaz, let’s go back to bed,” she says, shaking her shoulder gently again with little success. Thankfully, Yaz is practically sitting in her lap already, so she’s able to slip an arm under her knees, the other gaining better purchase around her back as she stands carefully, carrying her sleeping girlfriend back to her bedroom as gently as she can.

Setting her down on the bed and pulling the duvet back over her body, tucking her in carefully, she smiles to herself, because Yaz is here and safe and sleeping. Climbing in beside her, she shuffles closer and reaches for her hand hidden under the blankets, taking it in her own and squeezing gently.

* * *

When Yaz wakes the next morning, she’s groggy and confused.  _ When did she end up back in bed? _ Rolling over, her head protesting, she’s even more confused when she finds that the space next to her is empty. She tries to sit up, but groans slightly at the piercing pain between her eyes, pressing the heel of her hand to the skin in an attempt to soothe the relentless headache.

Her confusion is aided slightly when Jolie pokes her head around the bedroom door, hair still mussed from sleep and a gentle grin on her face. “Ahh! You’re awake. Here, I made you breakfast,” she states, sliding further into the room to reveal a tray with a glass of water and two slices of buttery toast. 

Yaz smiles, sitting up carefully as her girlfriend walks over, settling it on her lap. “I’ve just done toast, I wasn’t sure if you would be up to much, but I can make something more substantial if you fancy it, up to you,” she rambles, stopped in her tracks by Yaz grabbing her hand.

“Babe, it’s perfect. Thank you.”

Jolie blushes, settling down on the edge of the bed next to Yaz. “How are you feeling?”

“Groggy. Headachy.”

Jolie scrunches up her face in thought. “D’you want me to take you home after you’ve eaten? Your own room and stuff?”

Yaz stops, slice of toast midway to her mouth. “Why would I want to do that?” she asks, genuinely confused.

“Because you’d be more comfortable in your own flat?”

Yaz puts the toast back on her plate, leaning forward to take the other woman’s hand in her own. “Jo, I’m comfortable here. If it’s okay with you, I’d rather just hang out here today. With you.”

Jolie’s face breaks into a huge grin at the statement. “Really? You really mean that?”

“Of course I do! You’ve bought all my favourite snacks and I keep some clothes here permanently, I think it’s well established I’m pretty comfy here,” Yaz teases.

“We can do that, then,” she smiles. “Whatever you need.”

Yaz laughs, pressing her palm to her head as it provokes the headache again. “Actually, you don’t happen to have any painkillers, do you? My head is killing me.”

“Yes, that I can do,” she replies, jumping off the bed and bounding towards the kitchen. 

Yaz smiles as she hears her clattering around in the kitchen, until 30 seconds later she calls back. “Yaz, what was I doing in here again?”

“Painkillers.”

“Aha! Yes, got them,” she replies, walking back to the bedroom and handing the packet to Yaz with a smile.

They sit quietly while Yaz finishes her breakfast, content in each other’s company. Yaz only speaks up when she notices her girlfriend’s telltale anxious tick of chewing her bottom lip.

“You’re thinking. What’re you thinking about?”

Jolie looks up at her with a guilty look on her face at being caught in her worrying. “Last night, I was gonna say something, but you kinda fell asleep on me and I didn’t get the chance.”

“What was it?” Yaz reaches forward again, clasping both of the blonde’s hands in between her own.

“I wanted to tell you that I think you’re beautiful, scars or no scars. Because you really are Yaz, you’re gorgeous, and you shouldn’t let anyone else tell you otherwise, including yourself,” she says all in one big breath.

Yaz tears up, before moving the tray out of the way and shuffling forward to wrap her girlfriend in a fierce hug. “Jo, I think you’re beautiful too, inside and out.”

“Wait, really?” she questions, frowning in disbelief.

“Yes! You’re gorgeous and you’re honest and kind. Honestly, you’re the best person I’ve ever met. Okay?”

“Okay.”

* * *

Yaz rereads the words on her laptop screen for what feels like the millionth time that afternoon, sighing in frustration.

“Babe, what’s wrong?” Jolie asks from where she’s perched at her desk on the opposite side of the room.

“Nothing,” she replies automatically, scowling at her screen as the words swim.

Jolie sighs and spins around in her chair, pusing her glasses up her nose as she looks at Yaz sternly. “Yaz, you look like you want to kill that laptop, and you’ve sighed in frustration exactly 12 times in the last 15 minutes.”

“You’ve been counting?” is the only answer she can come up with.

“I lost my concentration a good half an hour ago, how else was my brain supposed to occupy itself?” she shrugs, settling down on the sofa and picking up Yaz’s fluffy-socked feet so her legs are resting over her lap. “But tell me, what’s got you so worked up?” she implores, absent-mindedly flirting her hands over Yaz’s exposed shins.

Yaz huffs, setting her laptop down on the floor. “I have to finalise my module choices for when I go back in January. It’s harder than I thought it would be.”

“How is it harder? Because you can’t decide which ones to pick, or because you’re anxious about going back?”

Yaz sighs. “Both. I’ve decided on two, but I’m struggling to pick the last one. And I’m scared to go back. I’ll not have any of my old classmates, I’ll have to meet so many new people, they might ask questions…” she trails off, realising that Jolie has stopped the soothing motion of running her hands over her ankles and is staring at her intently.

“Jo, you’re staring at me and it’s making me nervous.”

“Sorry,” she gulps, softening her gaze and shifting it to look at a spot on the wall behind Yaz instead. “If this were the other way around, if I were you and you were me, what would you tell me to do?”

“I would ask you if it needs to be done today, and if it doesn’t, make you do something else because you can’t concentrate.”

“Right then. Does it need to be done today?”

“No, I’ve got until next weekend.”

“Okay, so close the website, close your laptop. Why don’t we take a walk along the river, clear both our heads?”

Yaz frowns momentarily, ready to resist the suggestion as her stubborn streak kicks in, but softens when she sees how caringly Jolie is looking at her and realises that she’s right. “I guess you’re right,” she mumbles, smiling as her girlfriend fist pumps the air in victory.

“Finally! She listens to reason!”

Yaz rolls her eyes, hauling herself off the sofa. “Hmm, don’t get used to it,” she quips, turning around to throw her girlfriend a wink that makes her blush furiously as she walks back to the bedroom to get changed.

* * *

“Ugh, I can’t decide between these last two,” Yaz groans, leaning back and covering her face with her hands. She’d been sat in the cafe for the last half an hour, settled into her favourite set of sofas during a quiet hour with Jolie, Clara and Ryan joining her for moral support.

As Jolie gently pries her hands away from her face, Clara reaches for the notepad on the table. “Let’s look at your list again.”

“Oh god, not her pro-con lists. You know, she once made one of those to decide which colour notepad to buy to make her pro-con lists,” Ryan teases, yelping when Clara whacks him on the shoulder.

“I did,” Yaz admits when Jolie smirks at her quizzically. “Not my finest moment.”

“Right, let’s look at this list then,” Clara interrupts, squishing herself on the sofa next to Yaz. “You’ve definitely got more pros for the cognitive. It seems like a way better option than the social one.”

Yaz bites her lip, turning her hands over and over in her lap until they’re predictably interrupted by her girlfriend. “I’m still not sure,” she mumbles, shifting in her seat.

“The only con on there is the timing, babe,” Jolie states, putting the list in Yaz’s eyeline and pointing at the offending item to make her point known.

Yaz sighs, plucking the notepad out of her girlfriend’s hands, settling it on her keyboard and tapping her jaw lightly with her fist.

“What are the timings for the cognitive one?” Clara asks, in an attempt to distract her as she senses an oncoming panic attack, if her best friend’s telltale twitchy movements are anything to go by.

Squinting at the screen, she speaks shakily. “The lectures are every Tuesday and Thursday from 3:30 to 5, and seminars are every other Friday 5-6.”

“Are you worried about the them being later in the day?” Clara asks. 

“Yeah, not sure I want to walk home alone during rush hour and in the dark,” Yaz replies, picking at the skin around her nails in embarrassment. 

“Well I can easily meet you on Fridays, we go to my place anyway,” Jolie pipes up, providing the obvious arrangement that hadn’t even occurred to Yaz in her anxiety fog.

“I finish at the same time on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so I can meet you after those lectures if that would help,” Ryan offers without a hint of hesitation.

“You would seriously do that for me?” Yaz asks, looking around her closest friends in slight disbelief.

“Of course we would, we’re here for you mate!” Ryan replies enthusiastically, as Clara and Jolie simultaneously try to hug her from opposite sides.

“I guess it’s sorted then,” Yaz beams, picking her laptop back up. Her fingers fly over the keyboard as she inputs the information, hitting the submit button with a smile of relief and sagging back into the sofa.

“Girls, gals and non-binary pals, Yasmin Khan is officially re-enrolled in university!” Ryan announces in a mock sports-commentator voice, causing all three woman to roll their eyes very pointedly in his direction.

“Right, cake, we need cake,” Clara states, standing up to make her way over to the counter.

“There’s cake?” Jolie questions, her eyes lighting up like a child.

“It’s Clara’s, there’s always cake, babe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all good? Mmhmm? Anyone need a hug?
> 
> But seriously, I was so nervous to post this chapter, I really hope it's received well.
> 
> Anyway, I wanna talk to you guys a bit more in the notes?? It's super rainy and cold and due to thunder here today so I'm wearing my comfiest clothes, watching way too much TV, hanging out with my cat and writing/playing animal crossing. Oh, I also just made a *huge* batch of soup for dinner tonight, and I'm so excited to eat it even though my wrists hurt so bad from chopping the sweet potato (seriously, what is up with that vegetable??) Oh! And I officially started posting this story a month ago, so there's that too!
> 
> As always, I'm happy to chat over @emmyphant on tumblr!
> 
> Chapter title is a lyric from this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tCP6sXi33JE
> 
> A playlist featuring all the songs from this fic can be found here https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0T2wY8WE7DwBZGH1Ui0agQ


	9. I'm a Stranger in This World (But That's Alright)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Don’t matter where we spend Friday evenings, so long as we’re still hanging out together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another day, another chapter. Also wanted to give a quick thanks to all of you who've been leaving such lovely comments so far, it's much appreciated!
> 
> TW for depression
> 
> (I'm sorry, I promise this is the last of the angst for now, hopefully the comfort in the chapter makes up for it...)

When Yaz cracks her eyes open to the shrill, piercing tone of her alarm it’s with great effort. It feels like they’ve been glued shut, opening them hurts. There’s an elephant is sitting on her chest, her breaths shallow and grating. A glance at her phone screen is enough to send an arrow shooting into the space between her eyes, the sharp pain blossoming through her skull.

When she wakes again a little later, she notes she has a headache. Why does she have a headache?

Oh. Stomachache too. Ouch. No, don’t lie that way. Just … go back to sleep

Awake again. Headache still here. Worse now. Stomachache too. 

Why are her limbs so heavy? And aching, aching so much. 

Phone. Time. What time? 6:30. She’s late. Clara, text Clara. Then sleep again.

It’s later now. How much later? Does it really matter? 

It’s getting dark. Is that her brain playing tricks on her, or the weather? Both, she thinks, not really caring either way.

It’s still dark. She sits up with a sharp jolt. Oww, head. That hurts. 3am. She smiles. The world is quiet at 3am, nobody else is awake, the world is dark and quiet, nobody can ask her questions, she can just sit and think and do what she wants and there’s nobody there to disturb her. Not a single soul. But that also means she’s alone. So very alone. Nobody to look out for her, nobody to care about where she is or what she’s doing.

Jo, Jo would care about her. Did she text, call? 

Yes. 

So many texts and missed calls. 

How many days has it been? Judging by the unread notifications, it’s three. Oh god, she’s ignored everyone for three days. Jo doesn’t deserve this, doesn’t deserve her.  _ I should reply to her. Come on fingers, work with me here. _ Wait, why is the screen blank? Oh. Run out of battery. Sounds about right.

* * *

Harsh light pierces Yaz’s vision as she pokes her head out from under her duvet to vaguely respond to the loud knock on her bedroom door. Najia pokes her head around the door without waiting for a proper answer, and Yaz grumbles indignantly.  _ At least she actually knocked this time. _

“Clara’s here, can I let her in?” she asks, although it’s more of a statement as she swings the door open anyway to reveal a concerned-looking Clara, barely giving Yaz time to sit up properly and try to make the mess that was her hair any better.

Yaz opts to sit staring at her lap rather than looking at her best friend, mumbling an embarrassed ‘hello’ as Clara sits on the end of her bed. 

“How are you feeling?” Clara asks kindly, her face filled with concern and empathy, pulling her features into something much older and much more experienced than herself. This isn’t the first time they’ve been in this position.

“Like shit,” Yaz replies automatically. Technically not a lie.

“Yaz, I know you, and I know this isn’t flu Yaz, this is depressed Yaz. What happened?” Her tone is firm and unwavering, leaving her no room to wriggle out of the statement.

Yaz looks up at Clara warily. She had hit the nail on the head, and Yaz both hated and loved that she could see through her facade that easily. But that’s the Clara she needs in times like these. Finding she can’t answer the question though, she simply shrugs and stares at her lap again as embarrassed heat works its way up her neck and into her cheeks. Because really, what had happened? She had been fine one day then the next had woken up with her limbs feeling like lead and her head full of cotton wool. She had definitely thought it was a particularly bad cold at first, but when the other telltale signs didn’t come along, she’d fallen too deep into the cycle of self-hatred to pull herself out of it again. 

Clara senses her anxiety and decides to try a different approach. “How about you go take a nice hot shower, or a bath? I can clean up in here a bit, then we can do whatever you want. Watch a movie, eat cookies, paint each other’s nails, talk about it if you’re up to it.”

Yaz nods meekly. She’s beyond ashamed that she’s 20 years old and she can’t even look after herself properly, so her best friend has to do it for her.  _ But she’s Clara, and she doesn’t care, because she’s here. So pick yourself up and do what she says. _

To her surprise, Clara pulls her into a tight hug as she goes to leave the room. “We’re going to figure this out and get you through this blip, okay? This is just a tiny setback, you’re not back to square one,” she whispers into her ear, squeezing her shoulders before handing her a clean pair of fluffy pyjamas and turning her in the direction of the bedroom door.

In the end, Yaz settles for a shower; she’s not sure she would be able to get back out of the bath were she to lie down in it. Padding back into the bedroom, feeling a lot cleaner and a little more like herself, she guesses that Clara must almost be done. She’s somehow located a desk fan (since when did they own a fan?) to air out the room a little to save them from opening the window to the harsh December cold, and the sheets have been changed to the brightest set she owns. The books that had been pulled from the shelves in an earlier meltdown have been returned to their rightful places, clothes placed in the hamper, and Clara is cleaning down her desk, all the stuff on the bed. At the sound of the door clicking shut, Clara turns and grins. “Feeling a bit more human?”

Yaz nods, and to Clara’s surprise begins to help her move the stuff back to her desk, handing her the various items and even chipping in timidly when Clara puts something out of place. “Remind me why you’re doing this for me again,” she asks shyly, handing over a stack of post-it notes.

“Because you’re my best friend and I love you. This is what best friends do for each other.”

Yaz nods, not in agreement, but because she knew exactly what Clara was going to say. She sits down on the bed, tucking her knees up to her chin and Clara sits down beside her.

“Oh, I sent your mum out to the shops by the way, she was hovering. So it’s just us.”

Yaz can’t help but let out a small giggle; Clara is one of the only people who can effectively get her mum out of the way when necessary. Yaz reaches over to her shelves and grabs her giant bag of nail polish, handing it to Clara to allow her to choose a colour, and she selects a dark berry red, passing it back to Yaz. Painting each other’s nails is a usual routine for them in this situation; it allows Yaz time to feel comfortable enough to open up.

Yaz is finishing up Clara’s nails when her phone buzzes on her bedside table and she glances over at it. Seeing it’s a message from Jolie, she flips it over quickly, but Clara is too quick and sees the screen. “She’s worried about you, you know,” she states gently, and Yaz peers at her with a guarded expression.

“Have you not told her what’s going on?”

Yaz shakes her head guiltily, staring at her lap.

“She came in the other day, when you first called in poorly. I told her where you were, she was concerned and told me she would text you to check up on you.”

“She did?” Yaz murmurs, twisting her hands anxiously. 

“Why didn’t you reply Yaz? She’s been asking after you every day, she’s properly worried,” Clara asks, shuffling closer to her best friend so she can pull her into a hug.

“I don’t know. I didn’t because I felt like doing nothing but hiding from the outside world, but now it’s been four days and I don’t know what to say to her,” she blurts out, stubborn, salty tears leaking from her eyes.

“Yazzy, I’m going to be blunt with you here. Do you care about her?”

“Yes. A lot.” Her reply is easy and confident, one of the only things she’s sure of right about now.

“Then there’s your answer. You have to tell her the truth. I really think that you both care about each other and your relationship a hell of a lot more than you’re willing to admit to each other, but if you want this to work, you have to be open and honest with each other. Okay?”

Yaz nods in admittance, because of course Clara’s right, she’s always right. 

“Right then, pick up your phone, tell her to come over, and then we can watch a movie and eat cookies.”

“You’re bossy,” Yaz grumbles, reaching for her phone anyway.

“You love me really,” Clara singsongs, earning an eye roll from her best friend.

* * *

Yaz smooths her hands over her thighs nervously as she sits cross-legged on her bed, staring at the blank phone screen next to her, both willing for it to light up and also for it to stay stubbornly dark. She lets out a breath when the screen illuminates, a text from Jolie telling her she’s just making her way up in the lift. Sure enough, a minute or so later, there’s a quiet knock at the front door and Yaz moves to open it before anyone else in her family can get there.

Upon opening the door, she’s pulled into a crushing hug. “Yaz, I’m so glad to see you. I were so worried about you!” She mumbles into her shoulder, and Yaz feels her tummy flutter with guilt.  _ I’ve ignored her messages for four days and she’s not even cross, I don’t deserve this. _

“Do you want to go to my room?” She asks, gesturing down the hall and receives a nod in response.

Once they’re in her room, they both find themselves a little at a loss as to what to do. Yaz curls up in the corner of her bed, leaning against the wall and toying with her duvet while Jolie perches awkwardly on the opposite end.

“I’m sorry for being the worst girlfriend in existence,” Yaz blurts out, her voice shaking with emotion and embarrassment. Her words are spoken into her lap rather than to the woman sitting across from her. 

Jolie has a look of pure shock on her face at Yaz’s statement, and stares at her in disbelief. “What? Why would you say that?”

“Because I didn’t tell you I wasn’t well and then ignored your calls and messages for four days.”

“Yaz, that definitely doesn’t make you the worst girlfriend in existence. Right now, all I am is worried about you, and I want to know what happened so I can help. That’s all.”

“So you’re not mad?” Yaz questions apprehensively.

“Nope. Can’t be mad at a situation that hasn’t been explained.”

Yaz nods in thought, because it’s an extremely valid point and she knows it. Although why Jolie didn’t immediately jump to the conclusion that Yaz was ignoring her for other reasons, she doesn’t know.

“I wish I could explain it Jo, I really do. I don’t know what happened, because we were fine and then the next day I woke up feeling guilty, and embarrassed, and completely worthless. I felt that you deserve to be in a relationship with someone far better than me, someone who can actually function like a normal human being.” Yaz takes a deep breath, sinking further back into herself and the bed.

“Yaz, can I come and give you a hug? Because you look like you need one and I’d rather talk sense into you while hugging you,” Jolie asks kindly, a warm smile dancing across her lips as Yaz lifts her gaze to match hers. Yaz nods her consent and sits up slightly as Jolie shuffles towards her, settling at her side and wrapping strong, secure arms around her curled up frame, pulling her in close.

“Yaz, please please believe me when I say I feel so, so lucky that you’re my girlfriend. You don’t need to  _ be anything _ except to be you.”

“But, I just feel like I’m holding us back, I’m holding the relationship back,” Yaz protests, desperately trying to keep her spiralling emotions under lock and key so she can get through this conversation in one piece.

“Yaz, you’re going to have to elaborate, I don’t follow. Because as far as I’m concerned, you’ve done nothing wrong.”

Yaz sighs, shifting in her position slightly so she’s sitting huddled into the corner again, the security of Jolie’s arms around her falling away to a gentle hand placed on her knee.

“Every time we try to be even a tiny bit more intimate than kissing like teenagers, I freak out. And I feel so guilty that we can’t enjoy that side of the relationship, because I can’t get over my stupid fears.”

She’s still staring stubbornly at her lap, twisting her hands anxiously. She hears Jolie sigh heavily and fears the worst, but instead smooth, cool hands grab hers in a comforting hold, calming them from continuous movements to small twitches of discomfort. 

“Yaz, listen to me. None of that matters to me. All I want out of this relationship is you, and for both of us to be comfortable. I don’t care how long it takes for you to get there, that does not matter to me, not one little bit. Okay?”

Yaz looks up at her, eyes glossy as she holds back tears, her voice hoarse and strained. “Really?”

“Really.”

The statement releases a heavy weight from her shoulders, and she lets out a shuddering breath, her whole body sagging with the relief. Jolie opens her arms in silent offer of comfort and Yaz shuffles towards her, sinking into her hold like its second nature. At this point, it is.

* * *

Jolie isn’t sure how long it has been when she feels Yaz’s breathing slowing under her arms, and she glances down to see her girlfriend’s dozing form moulded against her. Her eyes are heavily lidded, her lips parted in semi-consciousness and her heavy breathing is lightly tickling Jolie’s collarbone from where her cheek has come to rest against her shoulder.

As she shifts her position slightly to make sure she’s more comfortable, anticipating she’ll be sitting here a while, Yaz’s eyes flutter open a little, grumbling in her drowsiness. “S’okay babe, go back to sleep,” Jolie murmurs quietly into her hair, breathing in the scent of her mango shampoo.

A little later, there’s a knock on the door and Najia pokes her head round, expression softening at the sight she lays eyes on.

“I knew she wasn’t sleeping properly,” she muses, nodding her head towards her dozing daughter. Jolie simply smiles down at her in acknowledgment, and then back up at Najia.

“That’s for getting her to nap for a bit. She needs it.”

“I didn’t do anything, entirely her own doing,” Jolie jokes, reaching a hand up to softly run her fingers through the curls above her girlfriend’s ear.

“Well, thanks anyway. Do you want anything to drink love, you might be stuck there for a while?”

“Tea would be great please. Milk and two sugars,” she smiles, giving Yaz a tighter squeeze when she stirs.

* * *

When Yaz wakes, she feels warmer and calmer than she has in days. In fact, the overwhelming sense of safety and comfort warms her all the way to her bones. Confusion blurs the corners of her vision, and she flutters her eyes open hesitantly. Her room. She’s in her room. Who is she asleep on? Oh, it’s Jolie. Her lips curl into a smile at the realisation, and she feels her solid weight shift under her. 

“Hey you! Nice nap?”

Yaz pushes herself up, rubbing the lingering grogginess out of her eyes. “You’re still here?”

“‘Course I am. Wouldn’t say no to cuddles with Yaz. Besides you had me pinned down, couldn’t really move.” The last remark has a teasing lilt to it, and her girlfriend accompanies it with a small chuckle.

“How long was I asleep?”

“Erm … about three hours,” Jolie answers with a glance at her watch. 

“Oh. Do you not have to go to work?” Yaz asks, a mild hint of panic to her voice.

“It’s Friday, Yaz. No work on Fridays,” she reassures.

“Oh, yeah. Wait, aren’t we supposed to be at yours though, if it’s Friday?”

Jolie shrugs nonchalantly, “Don’t matter where we spend Friday evenings, we’re still hanging out together.”

The admission makes Yaz baulk slightly, before she playfully hits Jolie on the shoulder. “You’re too soft,” she teases, her eyes sparkling. 

“Shut up, you’re gonna make me blush and stumble over all my sentences and that’s just embarrassing,” Jolie counters, barely managing to conceal her laugh.

Yaz sits up properly, eyeing the three empty mugs on the bedside table. 

“Your mum kept bringing me tea,” Jolie offers in explanation of the unasked question, and she laughs when Yaz cringes.

“So she saw me asleep on you?”

“Yeah. She thought it were sweet though, said you needed the rest.”

Yaz nods in agreement, she had been so, so tired. “I don’t really fancy going to yours tonight, sorry,” she admits sheepishly.

“That’s okay Yaz, I get it. You want your own bed.”

Yaz nods, chewing her lip in thought as an idea pops into her head. “You could stay here, if you like?”

Jolie’s eyes light up at the suggestion, and she grins broadly like a cheshire cat. “Really? I’d have to pop home and grab some stuff, but I’d love to!”

“Sounds like a plan,” Yaz grins back, thrilled with the idea of Jo staying with her rather than the other way around. 

“Okay, but first I need to go to the bathroom, because those three mugs of tea and you lying on my belly is very rapidly having an effect on me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We all good? I've realised I have these two fall asleep on each other way too often, and tbh I'm not that mad about it.
> 
> I don't really have much going on at the moment, except from finally getting a new bookshelf for my bedroom and being far too excited to put it together and rearrange all my possessions... My cat will not be impressed with the mess, I can tell you that for a fact.
> 
> Chapter Title is a lyric from this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_5ZicHVZH3Q


	10. If You Really Hold Me Tight (All the Way Home I'll Be Warm)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> She reaches out the hand with the new bracelet adorning it, and Yaz takes it in hers, also glinting with the shiny metal of the charm bracelet. She looks down at their joined hands, matching bracelets glinting in the light of the street lamp above them. Matching, together. She trusts her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost 6000 words of Christmassy fluff in September? Heck yes  
> Thank you to @walkerlister for beta-ing this chapter! If you haven't read any of her stuff, you should definitely go do that!
> 
> *Slightly* NSFW at the end, but only the teeniest bit.
> 
> Enjoy!

Yaz breathes in deeply as the smell of chestnuts, cinnamon and woodsmoke fill her head, and smiles. There’s something so distinctly Christmas about the combination of scents and it makes her warm and fuzzy inside. Though what amplifies that feeling even further is the person currently at her side, connected to her through their intertwined hands like the roots of two trees that have grown around each other. She sighs with content, a soft grin taking purchase on her lips.

“You look happy,” her girlfriend observes from her side, squeezing her hand in a small display of affection.

“I am,” Yaz replies with a smile and a shrug, because she is. It’s the calmest and most content she’s been in weeks. Despite the bustling nature of Sheffield’s Christmas market, it’s warm and familiar and comforting, even better when she’s bringing her girlfriend along for the first time.

“So you come here every year?”

Yaz nods, subtly pulling Jolie’s arm to direct her in her usual route around the market. “Yeah. We don’t tend to celebrate Christmas like everyone else, it’s more of a culture thing than a religion thing. It kind of goes along with New Years, at least in my family. It’s more about family and celebrating that for us. I love it, it makes me feel all warm and happy.”

Jolie smiles as Yaz leans her head on her shoulder, slowing from a brisk walk to an amble upon reaching the first of the little wooden chalets. They move at a leisurely pace, hand in hand. The stalls display an assortment of soaps, ornaments and kid’s toys, the final one they reach overflowing with jewellery. Yaz spies Jolie eyeing one of the stands, and follows her gaze to a collection of delicate star charm bracelets, each one consisting of two intertwined chains peppered with tiny stars. She smiles at the elderly lady running the stall, and points to the stand. “Could I get one of those please?” She asks with a polite smile, and the woman goes to lift one of the bracelets, fetching a small paper bag at the same time.

“Oh, I don’t need a bag,” she smiles, holding out the money to the woman who takes it and places the bracelet into her open palm, a confused look on her face.

Yaz turns and takes Jolie’s hand in hers, lifting it up towards her. “Babe, what are you doing?” she murmurs, swallowing a lump in her throat.

“Giving you a Christmas present,” she replies, unclasping the bracelet and looping it around her girlfriend’s goosebump-covered wrist. Her cold fingers fiddle with the clasp a little before she succeeds. Jolie blushes bright red as she stares down at the bracelet adorning her wrist. “Thank you,” she murmurs, leaning down ever so slightly to press a kiss to the corner of Yaz’s lips. She then turns back to the stall holder, who’s smiling at them both fondly.

“Actually, could I get one of those too please?” The woman smiles and nods, forgoing the bag and handing the bracelet straight to Jolie as she accepts the money; she knows her intentions. “Young love,” she muses under her breath, not quite loud enough for the pair in question to hear.

Jolie goes through the same motions as Yaz did with her, although she fastens the clasp with a little more fumbling than Yaz. “There, now we match,” she grins gleefully, giving Yaz’s hand a reassuring squeeze when she looks a little lost. When Yaz catches up, she matches Jolie’s grin, and they stare at each other in a trance. It’s only broken when someone jostles into Jolie’s back, catching her off guard and causing her to stumble forward to be caught by Yaz’s surprisingly strong arms. Once she’s upright again, she giggles infectiously, and Yaz joins in, taking her hand again to take her to the next stall.

* * *

“Yaz! Ice rink! Come on, we’re going ice skating,” Jolie exclaims, already making a beeline for the chalet where they can rent ice skates.

“Wait, Jo. I’m not sure about this,” Yaz hesitates, and her girlfriend turns back to look at her, head cocked to the side in concern and confusion.

“What’s wrong? Why are you not sure?” She asks, stepping back towards Yaz and squeezing her arm affectionately.

“Well, I just wasn’t exactly very good at this last time. And ice rinks are a bit more dangerous than roller rinks.”

“Hey, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. But I really do think it’ll be fun, and I won’t let go of you. I promise.” She reaches out the hand with the new bracelet adorning it, and Yaz takes it in hers, also glinting with the shiny metal of the charm bracelet. She looks down at their joined hands, matching bracelets glinting in the light of the street lamp above them. Matching, together. She trusts her.

“C’mon then, let’s do this,” she grins.

Jolie is true to her word, and holds Yaz’s hands tightly the whole time she’s slipping around the rink with the grace of a baby deer. Although this time the feeling of the blonde’s hands in hers is slightly less distracting and she’s able to concentrate a little more than on their first date. By the end she’s almost skating independently, although she’s definitely going to have her fair share of bruises from her few slip-ups over the last hour.

By the time they’re finished, they’re both giggly and cold and in desperate need of sustenance. Yaz snorts when Jo’s belly rumbles loudly, proving the point. They acquire steaming paper cups of hot chocolate and warm, sugary churros doused in chocolate syrup. It’s sickly sweet, and Yaz has to leave most of the churros to her girlfriend; she has a much higher sugar tolerance than she does.

“I don’t know how you do it,” she muses, taking a small sip from her cup and eyeing her girlfriend tucking into the churros.

“Love sugar, me. Probably because I never stop, I need the energy,” she quips, grinning as she pops the rest of the sugary treat past her lips.

“Eww, really didn’t need to see inside your mouth babe,” Yaz whines, scrunching her face up in protest. “Oh, wait. You’ve got chocolate sauce on your cheek.”

She watches in amusement as her girlfriend attempts to swipe the sauce from her skin, laughing when she only succeeds in smearing it further across her face.

“Here, let me,” Yaz supplies, wiping away the sticky substance with her thumb. “You’re making a habit of that.”

“Just excited about the food, Yaz!”

They sit chatting idly and taking in the atmosphere of the fair as they sip the rest of their hot chocolates, until Yaz notices the blonde starting to fidget on the wooden bench beside her. “You okay?”

“Think I need the bathroom,” she replies, scrunching her nose up.

“There’s a public one just at the end of that street,” Yaz provides, pointing ahead of them. “I’ll wait for you back here.”

She watches her girlfriend’s retreating form with a measured gaze, and when she’s sure she’s out of her eye line, she stands up and makes her way over to a small chalet selling hand knitted scarves. She had been at a bit of a loss as to what to buy her girlfriend for Christmas, and although they’d bought the bracelets, she still wanted something to give her on the day, something that would be a surprise. The goosebumps that had taken purchase on the patch of her chest and neck that her coat didn’t quite cover had caught Yaz’s attention over the course of their date, and that had led her to the conclusion that a scarf was definitely the present to buy.

She jumps slightly when a middle aged man pops out from behind a row of scarves, but the smile on his face is kind and Yaz estimates him to be the owner of the stall. “Can I help you with anything?”

“Actually, yeah. I want to buy someone a scarf for Christmas, but I’m trying to get it done quickly while they’re distracted,” she smiles, deciding that help might actually be useful here, given the sheer amount of options and her limited window of time.

“Okay then. What does this person tend to go for in terms of style?”

Yaz thinks for a moment, trying to come up with the nicest way to describe her girlfriend’s … unique sense of style. She loved it, but other people weren’t always of the same opinion.

“She likes bright, bold colours. And patterns, particularly prints and stripes.”

The man nods and ducks behind the row of scarfs again, before popping his back around a minute or so later, holding a garment which he extends to Yaz. She takes it, and instantly knows this is the one to buy. The bulk of the colour is a pale, almost grey blue, but along one edge there are thin stripes making up a rainbow. The whole thing is impossibly soft and bright and happy; the perfect description of her girlfriend.

“I’ll take it,” she confirms, a wide grin on her face. She hands a note over in payment and slips the scarf into her bag, stepping back out into the bustle of the fair, moments before Jolie comes back around the corner, almost barreling into her.

“You okay?” Yaz asks, amusement painting her features.

“Yeah. Fine, it’s just getting a bit busy, felt a bit lost,” Jolie replies, a little too quickly.

Yaz squeezes her hand understandingly. “You wanna go home?”

Jolie grins, returning the squeeze and leaning further into Yaz. “Yeah, home sounds good.”

* * *

Jolie almost jumps out of her skin when there is a soft rap at her front door, and she turns the Queen’s speech playing from her laptop onto mute, rubbing at her slightly damp eyes. Taking a steadying breath, she swings the door open, fully anticipating a kindly neighbour, or even carol singers. Although maybe not on Christmas Day itself.

Instead, she’s greeted with Yaz standing at her door, bundled up in so many layers that only her eyes and nose are poking out, toying nervously with the ribbon handles of the gift bag she’s clutching in a gloved hand.

“Yaz! What’re you doing here?” she enquires in genuine shock.

“Merry Christmas!” she cries, her eyes sparkling.

Jolie stares at her for a moment, her brain taking a second to catch up with the fact that Yaz was standing outside her door on Christmas Day. She then realises that inviting her in is probably the polite thing to do in this situation and steps aside to do just that.

Jolie helps Yaz wriggle out of her puffy coat and then leads her over to flop down on the sofa, moving her laptop to the side. She sees Yaz spy the Queen still talking on the screen but to her relief, doesn’t mention it. She’s still processing Yaz’s presence, and thankfully her observant girlfriend picks up on it.

“I brought you a present,” she smiles, shyly picking the bag up from the floor and handing it over.

“But you already got me something?” Jo pushes her sleeve up and flashes the charm bracelet purchased a week earlier to prove her point.

“That was a spontaneous present, babe,” she teases. “Go on, open it.”

Jolie obliges, throwing the layers of tissue paper onto the floor with childlike enthusiasm and reaching down into the bag, hand connecting with something soft and fluffy. She pulls it out, unfolding the material.

“You bought me a scarf?” She asks, running her fingers over the impossibly soft material.

“I’ve never seen you with one, and you seem to be gifted in getting really cold really quickly. D’you like it?” Yaz rambles, smiling as Jo wraps the scarf mostly around her own neck, then leanis closer to Yaz and looping the remaining fabric around her neck. She cups her cheeks, gently pulling her face towards hers. She waits a moment to allow Yaz to move back if she’s not comfortable, but when she doesn’t, she closes the remaining distance with a gentle kiss, as soft as the material of the scarf looping them together.

“I take it that’s a yes then?” Yaz giggles, resting their foreheads together.

“It’s perfect, I love it.”

She sits, staring into the dark brown pools of colour that were Yaz’s eyes until a thought occurs to her. She jumps up, knocking their foreheads together in her haste to move lest she forget what she had just remembered. “Oh! I got a present for you too!”

Yaz watches her in bewilderment, rubbing her forehead as Jolie dashes around the kitchen, seemingly rooting through the contents of every cupboard and drawer. Eventually she lets out a noise of triumph upon raiding the custard cream cupboard, and pulls out a small gift box, spinning back around to grin at Yaz.

Bounding back over to the sofa, she flops down and places the box in Yaz’s lap. “Happy Christmas!”

Yaz peers at her inquisitively, carefully unwrapping the paper and placing it to one side, in a sharp contrast to Jolie’s method of throwing the tissue paper around the room like a small child. Upon sliding open the small box, she gasped. “Wait, is this -”?

“A key to my flat? Yup, all yours,” Jolie grins, trying to gage Yaz’s reaction through her shocked expression.

“Really?”

“Yes, really! I thought it was about time, and with the new term and stuff our schedules are going to be even crazier than before. I wanted you to be able to be here on your own whenever you needed it. Kind of like a safe space for you. Oh, and it’s handy for when I lose mine so we don’t have to wait for a locksmith,” she rambles, her face completely taken over by an infectious grin that is soon matched by Yaz.

“Thank you, so much. I don’t even know what to say, this is so kind and considerate of you,” Yaz gushes, leaning in for another kiss. This one is a little more firm, overflowing with trust and happiness and adoration.

“So, the Queen’s Speech?” Yaz asks, leaning her shoulder into the sofa and tucking her legs under her. Jo feels her whole body tense up at the question and stares at her laptop on the floor, still playing on mute.

“My granny used to like watching it,” she mumbles. “So I still watch it, every year.”

“Ah.” Jolie turns her head towards Yaz, who is sitting up straight again. “Do you want me to leave?”

She mulls the thought over in her head for a second. Watching the speech together on Christmas Day had always just been a thing between her and her granny. But maybe she could share that with Yaz too.

“Erm … actually, I’d like you to stay. If you don’t mind,” she adds. Yaz simply smiles back at her, leaning down to pick up the laptop and handing it over.

“I never actually liked watching this, it’s boring. Only watched it because my granny insisted,” she smirks, looking at Yaz when she laughs loudly.

“Don’t think we ever watched it growing up.”

Jo smiles and leans her head against Yaz’s shoulder, absentmindedly toying with the star bracelet decorating her girlfriend’s wrist.

“Thanks for staying with me,” she murmurs.

“Always.”

* * *

They had barely had time to see each other during that seemingly endless week between Christmas Day and New Year’s Eve. Jolie had spent most of it either holed up in the library, studying for her January exams, or picking up extra shifts at the dog shelter. She had told Yaz that they were always busier there in the winter. Yaz had been much the same, working full time at the café in a last-ditch attempt to earn extra money before she went back to part time with her rapidly approaching return to university.

Even though they’d texted and called as much as their packed schedules had allowed, they’d only managed a quick hour for coffee together in the middle of the week, and Yaz had to admit that she was missing her girlfriend. A lot.

Yaz mulls this over as she stands in the bathroom she shares with her sister, staring glumly into the mirror as her hair simply refuses to play ball. She’d left Jolie in her bedroom with the privacy to get changed, along with most of her hair supplies. She would go back and get them, but Jolie had been uncharacteristically quiet since she’d arrived at Yaz’s family flat half an hour earlier. Deciding it was best to leave her alone a little longer, she turned back to the mirror with a gentle huff. Braids into pigtails it would have to be.

She’s almost at the end of the second braid when Sonya raps on the door loudly, making her jump and almost drop the last of the hair.

“Yaz, you done in there? I really need a pee and dad is using the other bathroom.”

Yaz rolls her eyes as she ties off the end of the braid, swinging the door open and almost being knocked over by Sonya who barrels past her.

“Your girlfriend looked all out of it in your room by the way,” she mutters before slamming the door in Yaz’s face. Shaking off her sister’s usual blasé attitude, she turns and heads for her room to check on her girlfriend.

As Yaz walks in, shutting the door behind her, she eyes Jolie carefully. She’s sitting on the edge of the bed, hands fisted in the sheets, arms locked and leg bouncing violently as she chews her lip. Yaz settles down beside her gently, resting a hand on her knee to slow the bouncing. She rubs firm, soothing circles with her thumb. “You don’t have to stay, you know,” she reassures, tenderly pushing blonde locks behind a cuffed ear.

“I want to. Just nervous. Who’s going to be coming again?”

Yaz shuffles further back on her bed, encouraging her girlfriend to do the same. “Okay, so mum has just left to pick up Nani. She’ll get here and then we’ll play some games, eat snacks, watch some telly for a bit. And then at about 11, our neighbours come over, that’s two adults and three kids. My dad’s older sister and her husband and two kids come then too. Mostly small talk and then the countdown and stuff, everyone usually drifts out between 12:30 and 1,” she finishes, peering at her girlfriend for her reaction. By her count, it’s the sixth time she’s been through this, but the holiday period is a lot and she knows Jolie has been struggling more, especially with her memory.

“Sorry. I keep forgetting stuff,” she mumbles in embarrassment, staring at her lap.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. You can’t help it.”

“Wait, your dad’s sister. Isn’t she the one who’s a bit … erm … traditional?” The blonde worries, concern weighing heavy on her features.

“You mean wildly homophobic?” Yaz counters, breathing out a slight laugh.

“Yeah, that. I just, sort of, have plans, and I don’t want to put you in an awkward position.”

“What plans?” Yaz says suspiciously, raising an eyebrow.

“Was sort of planning on kissing you at midnight,” Jolie replies sheepishly.

“Jo, I’d love to kiss you at midnight. To hell with her. She’s not in her house, she can’t say anything. And if she does, I can guarantee you my dad wouldn’t be overly pleased with her,” Yaz reassures, pressing herself up against her girlfriend and hugging her tightly.

Jo nods, and goes to make a move to return the hug, but trying and failing to extricate her arms from Yaz’s tight embrace she gives up and settles into the hug with a happy sigh instead.

“It’s a lot of people to meet,” she murmurs nervously, anxieties being taken out on her already battered bottom lip again.

“Y’can always come in here if you need a minute, you know. Nobody will think anything of it. And I’ll be right there as much as I can.”

Jolie nods hesitantly, taking a deep, shaky breath in an attempt to calm her racing heartbeat. “I’ll be okay. King of okay, me.” She grins at Yaz in an attempt to convince both of them. Fake it ‘til you make it, right?

Yaz releases her from the crushing hug and pats her knee encouragingly. “I think that’s mum getting back with Nani,” she states when the sound of the front door opening and keys being dropped on the table rings through the flat. “You ready?” She asks, standing up and extending a hand.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.”

* * *

Yaz grins broadly at her girlfriend beside her as they collect an obscene amount of fake money from Sonya and Najia. They had been playing an intense game of Monopoly for the last hour and a half; Yaz and Jo vs Umbreen and Hakim vs Sonya and Najia. They were winning, by a lot. It turned out that Jolie was incredibly good at the game and she modestly claimed that she must be having a lucky day, but Yaz knows that she’s just insanely good at maths and strategy.

They eventually round up the game just after 10pm, Umbreen announcing it’s time for her customary nap to make sure she doesn’t miss out on the celebrations. Yaz stands up to help her move to her parents bedroom where she can sleep in peace, but Umbreen stops her in her tracks, reaching down to place a hand on Jolie’s shoulder where she’s still sitting on the floor, sorting the game pieces back into the box diligently.

“I need you on my team next time,” she states, a glint in her eye. Yaz protests that there’s no way she’s getting stuck on a team with her dad, who gasps in offence. “Yasmin Khan, I’ll have you know your dear old dad is an excellent Monopoly player!”

Yaz laughs, guiding her Nani by the elbow. “Not as good as Jolie though,” she retorts, grinning cheekily when the woman in question blushes bright red, staring intently at the paper money in her hands.

* * *

Yaz is sitting on the sofa, her Nani on her right and her girlfriend on her left, the latter of the two tapping her fingers against the palm of her hand and bouncing her leg. The arrival of the other guests is imminent, and Jolie is struggling to focus on the light conversation flowing around the room while they wait. Yaz reaches over and squeezes her forearm gently to ground her. Jo smiles back tightly but gratefully, and the leg bouncing slows to a less noticeable pace.

“I’m not going to leave you on your own, and if you need a time out, just let me know, okay?” she murmurs into her girlfriend’s ear, leaning in so their conversation can’t be overheard by the rest of the family. Jolie nods, leaning over to drop a gentle kiss to Yaz’s forehead but she jumps when there’s a loud knock on the door, bashing her lip against Yaz’s forehead in the process.

After a quick check that she’s okay, Yaz stands and takes Jolie’s hand in hers and they walk forwards a little to where her aunt, uncle and cousins have just walked in and are exchanging pleasantries with her parents and sister.

Dropping Jolie’s hand, she walks forward and does the same, opting to kiss her aunt and uncle on each cheek and settling for a hug with her teenage cousins. She steps back and takes Jolie’s hand again, tugging her towards her and she sees her aunt and uncle’s eyes widen.

“I would like you all to meet my girlfriend, Jolie.”

Yaz watches in trepidation as her aunt’s mouth opens and closes, while her uncle just stares at them warily. She can see her aunt is about to make a distasteful comment but glancing at her dad, she sees him giving his younger sister a stony glare, and Yaz smiles to herself. Thinking better of it, her auntie gives a curt nod in their general direction, and then bustles past them, making a beeline for Umbreen on the sofa. Her uncle follows, but her cousins turn towards them, introducing themselves properly and striking up a conversation, pushing the uncomfortable atmosphere out the front door and over the balcony.

Their neighbours arrive shortly after, the introductions going much more positively, much to the couple’s relief. At around half past eleven, Najia calls Yaz into the kitchen where she’s washing the dishes from the earlier snacks.

“You holding up okay, love?” she asks, passing Yaz a bowl to dry.

She nods, glancing through the open kitchen door to check on Jolie, who is sitting at the dining table with her cousins, engaged in a conversation and seemingly managing it quite well.

“Yeah. Auntie wasn’t as bad as I expected either,” she quips, laughing when her mum rolls her eyes.

“Yeah, I think Hakim and mum are too scary for her to make any comments. I’m sorry she’s being like that though.”

Yaz sighs and then gives a nonchalant shrug. “It’s not your fault, she’s just a dinosaur.”

Both her and Najia descend into laughter, flicking soap suds at each other. Yaz doesn’t realise Jolie is standing in the doorway, watching them with amusement until she turns away from a particularly large splash.

“Oh hey babe! You okay?”

Jo nods, stepping towards the safe beacon that is her girlfriend and placing her hand on the small of her back.

“Your cousins talk a lot.”

“Hah, they do. They’re almost as bad as Sonya!”

Jo laughs, and then shifts her weight from foot to foot nervously.

“Would you like to hide out here with us for a bit, love?” Najia asks warmly.

Jolie nods again, taking the tea towel that Yaz offers her and settling easily into the well-oiled machine.

* * *

Ten minutes later, the dishes have been washed, dried and returned to their rightful places, and Sonya is yelling from the living room that they’re putting the TV on for the countdown to midnight. Yaz elects for her and Jolie to stay towards the back of the room, giving them a little more privacy, particularly from her aunt and uncle.

They chat animatedly with the neighbour kids, who have reached the point of over-tired excitement that 8 and 10 year olds typically reach on New Year’s Eve, and are mostly speaking nonsense. Cute nonsense, though. At around a minute to midnight, Yaz ushers them back to their parents for the countdown. She throws her aunt, who is watching her and Jolie together with a look of slight disgust on her face, a murderous look. Umbreen spots the exchange and smiles encouragingly at her, giving Yaz’s auntie a look that Yaz knows means she’s going to get a serious talking to at some point.

All of a sudden, the countdown is starting and Jolie has spun her around by her shoulders so they’re standing face to face and just inches apart. They begin to count along with everyone else in the room, anticipation building in the pit of Yaz’s belly. When the clock hits zero and cheers erupt around the room, Yaz slings her arms around Jolie’s waist and pulls her close, at the same moment that her girlfriend cups her face, drawing her in for a kiss.

It’s sweet and gentle, appropriate due to the fact that any one of the people in the room could turn around and watch them, but there’s a hint of something else when Yaz gives her hips a light squeeze and Jolie brushes Yaz’s baby hairs on her forehead, sighing into her.

Yaz regretfully breaks the kiss off when she can sense her mum walking over to her to pull the pair of them into the main group to wish everyone else a Happy New Year. When exchanges have been shared, they all quiet down to watch the firework display on the TV, and Yaz slots herself comfortably next to Jolie, resting a head on her shoulder and hooking her arm around her waist. Yup, this is the perfect way to start off a new year, Yaz smiles to herself.

* * *

Yaz is sitting cross legged on her bed when Jolie walks back in from the bathroom, pyjamas donned and wearing Yaz’s (stolen) favourite orange star sweater. Her insides warm at the sight and as her girlfriend settles down next to her, she cups her face gently and draws her in for a kiss. Feeling bold, she teases the tip of her tongue against Jolie’s lips and they part, granting her entrance. Jo waits a second before reciprocating, and Yaz accepts it readily, taking in the taste of her strawberry toothpaste and a faint hint of sugary tea.

Jo pulls back first, blushing furiously but grinning like an idiot. “What was that for?”

Yaz grins back. “That midnight kiss was quite something. And you look cute in my clothes,” she shrugs, blushing a little but not really caring.

Jolie giggles back at her, her face bright and open and happy. “I’ll have to remember that,” she quips, tapping a finger to the side of her temple. “D’you mind if I kiss you again?”

Yaz responds by pulling her back in for another kiss, her fingers tangling into blonde locks, while Jo’s hands curl comfortably around the back of her neck. This kiss is different to previous ones, more passionate, heated, more intention and drive behind it. It’s broken all too soon when Jo shivers violently, bumping their noses together by accident.

“Do you wanna get under the covers?” Yaz suggests, already slipping under herself and holding the remainder up for her girlfriend to slide in next to her. They lay down facing each other, Yaz’s single bed forcing them to lie just inches apart, breaths hot on each other’s skin. Jo leans forward, resting her forehead against Yaz’s and waits a moment before kissing her again, giving her ample time to change her mind.

She doesn’t though, and meets Jolie eagerly, boldly moving her hands down the other woman’s sides, coming to rest comfortably at her waist. She pulls back momentarily, breathing heavily and her face flushed. “Is this okay?” She whispers, mindful of keeping her voice low since they’re not alone in the flat.

Jolie nods and lets out a breath, cheeks flushed and eyes shining. “Can I?” She asks, glancing down at Yaz’s waist. Yaz swallows thickly and nods her consent. “Erm, just… just stay above my clothes please?”

“Of course.” Jo smiles reassuringly before she begins peppering Yaz’s jaw with tiny, delicate kisses while ghosting her hands over the soft material of Yaz’s pyjama top, finally coming to rest at her slender waist. She gives Yaz a moment to adjust before drawing her in for another kiss, long and lazy and slow.

Yaz kisses her back confidently, her heart swelling at how comfortable and safe she feels in Jo‘s arms. Emboldened by her confidence, she inches her hands under her girlfriend’s pyjama top, coming to rest against her bare skin. It’s soft and smooth and there’s a hint of a small tummy, which Yaz lightly rubs her thumbs over. She feels Jo breathe in sharply at the new contact and pauses a second, causing the blonde to lean back momentarily.

“Ah, sorry. You okay with this?” Yaz whispers hesitantly, searching her girlfriend’s face for any signs of uneasiness. Thankfully, she’s met with a dopey grin that illuminates her whole face, even in the low light of Yaz’s bedroom.

“It’s amazin’, Yaz. Are you okay?”

Yaz nods firmly, leaning in to steal a delicate kiss from the corner of Jolie’s lips, her smile more timid than her girlfriend’s, but bright all the same. “I’m really good.” Then, after a moment of thought; “Actually, do you think … erm … I’d like you to touch under my top too, if that’s okay with you, I mean.”

Jolie nods at her warmly. “That’s very okay with me, babe.” She gives her waist a light squeeze before resting her forehead against Yaz’s and tenderly working her fingers under the thin material of Yaz’s pyjama top. She stops when her cool palms are resting against the slopes of Yaz’s slender waist, her scars completely covered by one hand.

“Hey, Yaz. Breathe.”

Yaz nods and lets out a long breath she didn’t realise she was holding, smiling shyly at her girlfriend.

“Would you like to stop?”

Yaz shakes her head, swallowing the lump in her throat. “No, I just need a moment.”

“That’s okay, we can take as many moments as you need,” Jolie confirms, lightening her touch slightly and placing a kiss on the tip of Yaz’s nose in a goofy, split-second decision.

“Did you just kiss my nose on purpose?” Yaz asks, smirking.

“Might’ve. Did you not like it?”

“Loved it actually. Y’can do it again if you like.”

Jolie responds by grinning and planting another kiss on Yaz’s nose, causing her counterpart to laugh lightly. She continues, and soon enough, they’re both giggling giddily and smiling broadly.

“I’m good now,” Yaz says, capturing Jolie’s lips in a kiss that was aimed for her nose, and her girlfriend gives a soft humph of surprise. Yaz’s breath hitches slightly when she feels Jo’s hands move against her stomach, but they stay at the respectable position they currently are, just her thumbs rubbing softly at the dark skin, as well as over her scars. She feels herself relax into their shared actions, even going so far as to wriggle closer so their torsos are almost flush together, mirroring Jo’s ministrations on her stomach.

The sensation of someone touching skin that is now just a mess of dark reddish-purple lines in such a tender and adoring way is overwhelming. The last time she had let someone touch that part of her skin, they were still angry and sore and it had been for strictly medical purposes. More poking and prodding, born out of necessity rather than desire.

“Hey, Yaz. Are you crying?” Jolie asks, her voice filled with gentle concern as she brings her hands up to cup Yaz’s face, her thumbs wiping away the stray tears from her cheeks.

Yaz nods sheepishly, ducking her head to avoid Jo’s eyeline.

“That’s okay. Do you want to stop?”

Yaz nods again, pulling her own hands back to scrub at her eyes.

“Hey, Yaz. No shame. You’re doing so amazing, and you’ve told me when you’ve hit your boundaries. That’s amazing of you.”

Yaz raises her gaze again to meet Jo’s, and only finds a face full of encouragement and adoration. She matches her smile, sniffing a little and pulling her shirt sleeves over her fingers.

“Could I maybe have a cuddle?”

“‘Course you can, always got cuddles for my Yaz. Come here.”

Jolie opens her arms and shuffles forwards a couple of inches, pressing herself against the woman she loves (she’s figured that much out by now) and burying her face into the space where her neck meets her shoulder. It’s warm and comforting when Jolie wraps her arms around her middle, squeezing tightly. Yaz drifts off easily when her girlfriend starts rubbing her back lightly, her dreams filled with smiles and laughs and the promise of a better year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want it to be Christmas now
> 
> Thank you for reading, as always I can be found over on tumblr @emmyphant if you want to chat!


	11. I Don't Think I Can Let This Moment Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And you can tell everybody this is your song
> 
> It may be quite simple but now that it’s done
> 
> I hope you don’t mind
> 
> I hope you don’t mind
> 
> That I put down in words
> 
> How wonderful life is while you’re in the world

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is literally nothing but soft, enjoy!
> 
> Thank you for the continued support and all the lovely comments, I'm loving writing this and hearing what people think :)

Yaz shifts her weight nervously from foot to foot, checking the time on her phone for the millionth time. It’s the first time she’s been alone in her girlfriend’s flat, although Jolie knows she’s there waiting for her to come back. She texted that she was done with her last exam … 26 minutes ago, which means she should be due through the door any time within the next two. Yaz opens the oven where she’s left the food to keep it warm and lifts it out, dishing generous portions of cheesy pasta bake - Jolie’s favourite - into the bowls on the kitchen island. She pours fizzy lemonade into the two tall glasses and lights the candle in between the two settings, just as she hears keys in the lock.

Jolie is staring at something on her phone when she steps through the door and so she doesn’t register Yaz waiting for her at first. “Geez, Yaz!” Jolie yells when she finally looks up, throwing her hand to her chest as shock is painted perfectly on her face. “You scared the living daylights out of me!”

Yaz giggles a little and then steps forward to where her girlfriend has frozen to the spot, circling her arms around her waist and kissing her gently. “Sorry, just wanted to surprise you.”

“Well you definitely succeeded,” Jolie laughs, untangling herself from her girlfriend’s embrace and removing her backpack and coat. “Wait, what’s all this?” She asks, finally taking in the sight beyond Yaz.

“Well -“ Yaz steps back, holding her arms out to the side “- I thought you might be too tired and overwhelmed to go out anywhere, so I brought the date to you!”

Jolie's grin is audible as she gently cups Yaz’s face with her hands, radiating happiness. “You’re the best Yaz. D’you think I could kiss you now?”

Yaz responds by pulling her girlfriend towards her by her hips and kissing her enthusiastically. However it’s broken a little too soon when Jolie spots the meal in question over Yaz’s shoulder, and her eyes widen comically in excitement. “You made me a cheesy pasta bake? I love y-“ Jolie splutters, catching herself at the last second. “-that. I love that! Thank you, really, you’re amazin’.”

Yaz smiles, she definitely heard Jolie’s almost admission, but refrains from saying anything for now. It still makes heat rush to her cheeks though, and she ducks her head to hide her face until she can recompose herself. She pulls a stool out and offers an arm to her girlfriend. “Shall we dine?” Yaz’s voice is comically posh and formal, but it’s hard to keep up the act when Jolie flops into the seat and immediately begins to inhale her food.

“Babe, slow down, the food’s not going anywhere,” Yaz chides playfully, taking a much smaller forkful of her own meal and raising her eyebrows at her girlfriend whose loaded fork has stopped halfway to her mouth, a guilty look on her face.

“Exam season makes me really hungry, Yaz,” she offers in explanation, tipping the food from her fork and taking a smaller piece nonetheless.

“D’you want to talk about the exam, or something else?” 

Jolie hums in thought for a moment through a sip of her drink. She doesn’t realise it’s fizzy though until she’s taken a huge gulp and splutters, bubbles shooting up her nose. When she’s gathered her composure again, not aided by Yaz’s muted giggles, she speaks. “I think it went pretty well. Not the best, not the worst. Rather just not think about it until I get the marks back though, no point in dwelling on it.”

Yaz nods, pushing her food around her plate with her fork. “I’m usually the same. We can talk about other things.”

“Like why you haven’t actually eaten any of your dinner, you’re just pushing it around your plate,” Jolie states, raising a single eyebrow pointedly and staring at her girlfriend accusingly, catching Yaz out. She’d hoped she would be able to eat enough so as not to arouse any suspicions, but that doesn’t seem to have worked.

“Talk to me, what’s up,” the blonde implores, putting her fork down and resting her chin in her hands, fixing Yaz with a firm gaze.

“S’nothing, don’t want to ruin the date,” Yaz defelects, taking a forkful of food in an attempt to convince Jolie of her lie. It doesn’t work though, of course it doesn’t.

“C’mon Yaz, it’s not nothing. You don’t have to spill your guts, just let me know how I can help you.”

Yaz sighs and turns to face her girlfriend, who is looking at her with nothing but openness and concern. “I’m erm … I’m kinda apprehensive about starting back next week. Well, I’m not that bad now, more of a small worry, I’m just worried because I know the big worry is imminent.”

“Erm, right,” Jolie nods, chewing her bottom lip. “I know it’s probably pointless saying this, but we’ve got four whole days until then. What do you need in the mean time, a distraction? Talk it out? Complain about it? Sometimes I think talking about it helps, but a lot of the time you just want to forget about the thing ‘cause your brain is like ‘I need a break!’ but then you end up overthinking and-”

“Jo.”

“Yeah?”

“You’re rambling.”

“Oh,” Jolie laughs. “Sorry, I’ll stop.”

“No no no, the rambling’s good, just maybe not about going back to uni. Ramble about literally anything else,” Yaz reassures, already feeling calmer and taking another forkful of her food, finding she’s now quite hungry.

“Good, rambling, I can do that. Oh wait, did I tell you about Rose’s little incident at work last week? Well, it was more of a puppy incident that she happened to get caught in the middle of.”

Yaz shakes her head, taking a sip of her drink. “Rose is the one you get along best with, right?”

Jolie nods, finishing the last mouthful of her food. “Yeah, the others are okay but they’re a bit older and stuffier. Anyway, we got a new litter of puppies in last week, right.”

“Puppies!” Yaz’s face lights up at the mention, and Jolie grins.

“Well I _do_ work in a dog shelter, Yaz,” she teases.

“I know, but puppies!”

“Yes puppies.” Jo gives a grin and a shake of her head before continuing. “Anyway, Rose and I were sitting on the floor with them, getting them used to people and stuff like that. They’re climbing all over us, rolling around on the floor, just generally being really cute puppies. Then all of a sudden, Rose _yelps_ and picks one of them up, and he’s peeing all over her. Like, she’s completely covered in it. She goes to put him in the litter tray to, y’know, finish his business.”

Yaz nods and grins, because Jolie is obviously trying to suppress her laughter, but failing her a small splutter or a giggle escapes every now and then.

“Okay, so obviously she had to get up and go and change her jeans because she’s now covered in puppy wee. Except, when she stands up -” Jolie breaks off into laughter, her face turning red “- _another_ puppy wanders over, sits on her foot and then proceeds to do the exact same thing!”

Yaz bursts into laughter, the two of them getting more and more giggly as they feed off each other’s hysterics, to the point that they’re both cry-laughing and doubled over in their stools. 

“Oh that’s brilliant,” Yaz eventually manages to breathe out, clutching her side as a stitch takes hold. “I feel sorry for her though, that’s a lot of puppy pee.”

Jolie shrugs, downing the rest of her drink in one go. “When I started working there, they told me I wouldn’t be an official member of staff until a dog had deposited some sort of bodily fluid on me.”

Yaz baulks and pulls a face of disgust. “That’s an … odd right of passage. Makes sense though.” Then, raising an eyebrow and smirking cheekily, a thought pops into her head. “Wait, are you an ‘official’ member of staff then?”

“Second week. I was exercising a new dog in the garden, and I got a bit distracted. Next thing I know, the dog, I think his name was Rex, had decided to eat the grass, and promptly threw up all over my shoes.” Jolie pulls a comical face of disgust as she finishes her sentence, and Yaz splutters out a laugh.

“So you’re definitely initiated then?”

“Oh yeah.”

They sit in a comfortable silence while Yaz finishes the rest of her food, and she notes that her anxieties have definitely lifted, Jolie really is excellent at being a distraction, in more ways than one. She can still feel the worry fizzing away in the pit of her stomach, but it’s reduced to a gentle simmer, quashed by the mere fact of her girlfriend’s presence.

When she’s finished, Yaz stands and collects the dishes, dumping them by the sink for the meantime.

“You -” she says, pointing a single finger at Jo “- need to go and get ready for the other part of our date.

“What? I am ready!” the blonde protests, standing up and gesticulating at her outfit (cuffed pale blue jeans and an orange jumper speckled with white polka dots) as to prove her point.

“Not that that outfit isn’t adorable babe, but you might want to dress in something more sophisticated.” Yaz winks, leaving her girlfriend even more confused.

“I picked out an outfit for you, it’s on the bed. It’ll make a lot more sense once you get changed, I promise,” she assures, already ushering her still confused girlfriend into the bedroom. “Ten minutes!”

She slips into the bathroom herself, retrieving her own outfit where she’d hung it from the shower rail earlier, in a last minute decision when she realised she didn’t have anywhere else to hide it. Thankfully Jolie hadn’t needed to use the bathroom when she’d gotten in, or her whole surprise would have been ruined. 

She changes quickly, slipping into the dress with ease. It’s the only fancy dress she owns, but she loves it. The dark, deep burgundy material hugs her torso in a way that she knows is flattering, thin straps keeping it in place over her shoulders. The skirt falls loosely from her hips, reaching all the way down her legs and flirting around her ankles, the material giving a satisfying _swish_ every time she turns. 

Pulling her hair from its bun, she lets it loose, natural curls tumbling around her shoulders and she teases them gently with her fingers until they fall into place. Checking her star charm bracelet is in place on her wrist, she pushes small silver studs into her ears and gives her makeup a quick check. Thankfully, it’s fine, given the pre-planning she had done before Jolie had come home. 

Padding back into the main room in bare feet (she hadn’t been able to find any appropriate shoes), she makes sure her phone is connected to Jolie’s little bluetooth radio and loads up the playlist she had specially prepared, fingers shaking a little. Next, she turns out the main light, flicking on the couple of table lamps around the room and relighting the candle on the island, bathing the whole room in a warm glow. Finally, she presses play and stands, fidgeting anxiously, in the centre of the room, waiting for her girlfriend to emerge.

When Jolie does, she still looks extremely confused but her jaw drops when she clocks onto Yaz waiting for her. Yaz has a similar reaction, despite having picked out the outfit herself. Simple navy blue slacks, tucked in white shirt dusted with tiny stars, and Jolie has added a pair of dark red braces, which happen to match Yaz’s dress almost perfectly.

> _It’s a little bit funny, this feelin’ inside_
> 
> _I’m not one of those who can easily hide_
> 
> _I don’t have much money, but boy, if I did_
> 
> _I’d buy a big house where we both could live_

“May I have this dance?” Yaz stretches a hand out to her girlfriend, who takes it tentatively. Yaz pulls her close, and Jo stumbles, almost toppling Yaz.

“Yaz, I can’t dance.”

“‘Course you can!” Yaz is confident, but Jolie still doesn’t look sure. “I’m not asking you to break out into a waltz with me babe, just a simple slow dance,” she reassures, placing her free hand on Jolie’s shoulder to steady her. Finally, she relaxes a little and pulls Yaz closer, their bodies flush against each other. She loops her free arm around her waist, resting her palm on the small of Yaz’s back and they sway gently together from side to side, lost in each other.

> _And you can tell everybody this is your song_
> 
> _It may be quite simple but now that it’s done_
> 
> _I hope you don’t mind_
> 
> _I hope you don’t mind_
> 
> _That I put down in words_
> 
> _How wonderful life is while you’re in the world_

“Jo,” Yaz whispers, her words barely audible even though the music is quiet and they’re the only people here. 

Jolie leans back, searching Yaz’s eyes for what she’s about to say.

“Jo, I’ve been - I’ve been wanting to say this for a while now. I love you, I love you so much. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I need you to know that.” Yaz lets out a deep breath at the end of her sentence, and it’s like the world has stopped moving around her. The only thing worth thinking about is the woman staring back at her, pupils wide and eyes shining, lips parted slightly in shock. 

“Yaz, I … I love you too Yaz. More than anything,” she croaks back, voice thick with emotion.

Yaz can’t help but break out into a huge, bright grin. This, right here, this feels right. More right than anything has before. 

> _So excuse me forgettin’, but these things I do_
> 
> _You see, I’ve forgotten if they’re green or they’re blue_
> 
> _Anyway, the thing is, what I really mean_
> 
> _Yours are the sweetest eyes I’ve ever seen_

Yaz presses her forehead against Jolie’s, their bodies moulding together into a perfect fit, like two pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. Almost. Jolie is the one to push the pieces into place, tilting her head and kissing Yaz fully and deeply. It’s like a thousand suns are exploding inside Yaz, but it doesn’t hurt. No, it feels warm and full, like she’s finally found her own little place in the universe. Right here, with the woman with a kind soul and a heart full of gold.

* * *

Although Yaz wants their at-home date to last forever, it does have to end eventually. Jolie is exhausted and it’s painted on her features, so Yaz takes pity on her, suggesting a sofa movie and a cuddle. The blonde agrees happily, wandering off to get changed into something comfier while Yaz washes the dishes. They then switch; Yaz changing while Jo sorts out snacks and the film and arranges the pillows and blankets on and around the sofa.

Walking back into the living room, Yaz immediately breaks out in giggles at the sight before her. Her girlfriend is standing in the centre of the room, a blanket draped completely over her head, rendering her completely disoriented and a little Halloween ghost like.

“Yaz, are you laughing at me?” she accuses, attempting to take a step in what she presumes is the giggling brunette’s direction, but walking smack into her desk chair instead.

“Ow ow owwww,” she complains, standing on one foot and rubbing her toe. Yaz makes the executive decision to intervene. As funny as it is, she knows Jolie is going to hurt herself again in less than 30 seconds if she doesn’t do something.

“Okay babe, stand still before you hurt yourself again.”

The blonde huffs indignantly and crosses her arms under the blanket, but does what Yaz says nonetheless, waiting until her girlfriend can pick her way through the mess on the floor, drawing the blanket from her head. It creates a lot of static and musses her hair, short blonde locks moulded into a style that looks a little like a mad scientist. It suits her.

“Care to explain?” Yaz asks, playfully, raising a single eyebrow and grinning.

“I were trying to make a fort, Yaz. But the blanket is bigger than me and that caused a problem.” Her tone is dead serious, and Yaz can’t help but smile again.

“Right, what can I do to help then?” Yaz doesn’t entirely have the energy to build a fort, but her girlfriend is clearly very excited about the concept, and she has to admit to herself that watching a movie cuddled inside their own little cocoon might be better than just cuddling on the sofa.

Jolie immediately jumps into action, directing Yaz on where to attach blankets to various pieces of furniture and the perfect cushion arrangement as she fizzes with excitement.

Ten minutes later, they stand back to admire their work. It’s shaky and a little haphazard looking, but it’s a fort nonetheless. They grin at each other, before Jolie holds back the ‘door’ for Yaz and they slip inside. 

Yaz curls up in the corner between the sofa and the wall, the blanket roof brushing against the top of her head and watching as Jolie arranges her laptop and the snacks as best she can. When she hits play and the familiar opening sequence comes on the screen, she opens her arms and Jolie settles at her side with a pleased hum, throwing an extra blanket over the both of them. Yaz knows she should probably be paying attention to the film, but she’s seen _The Notebook_ several times before and watching her girlfriend’s soft expressions mould into her face is much more interesting. She would stare at her all day if she were given the chance.

“Watch the film, Yaz,” Jolie murmurs, elbowing her playfully in the side.

“Watching you watching it is better,” she smirks, and Jolie turns to look at her properly, a soft smile on her face. 

“Someone’s in looooove,” the blonde teases, resting her chin on Yaz’s shoulder.

“Yeah, with you, you goon,” Yaz fires back, grinning when Jolie’s face predictably turns beetroot red.

“Well, I’m not complaining,” she shrugs, pressing herself further against Yaz and hooking her lower leg over Yaz’s lap. Yaz knows she’s probably going to get pins and needles, but she doesn’t really care all that much, not when, in her opinion, the best person in the world is sitting right there next to her.

* * *

  
  


“Sorry, sorry,” Yaz whispers when her alarm shocks them both awake, her voice slightly croaky from first use that day and Jolie’s arms squeezing her waist when she attempts to move to shut off the noise.

“Jo, you’re going to have to let go of me a bit if you want me to turn that off.”

The blonde grumbles but loosens her grip so Yaz can reach her phone. Shutting off the noise she rolls over so she’s face to face with her half-awake girlfriend, kissing her softly.

“Mornin’. Oh god, regretting the garlic bread last night.”

“Don’t say ‘I told you so’,” Jolie whines, rubbing at her eyes before kissing Yaz back. Yaz ends up laughing into her mouth, because she had in fact warned her girlfriend. Warned her that if she let her stay over on nights before she had an early shift, she would have to put up with the five thirty wake-up call. 

“I won’t,” Yaz nods and shuffles back slightly, making to get out of bed.

“Noooo, stay here. S’warm in bed,” she grumbles, dramatically throwing an arm over Yaz in an attempt to keep her there.

“Knew you would say that.” Yaz laughs, shuffling up to her girlfriend again and cupping her cheeks as she brushes stray hairs out of her face. “That’s why I set the alarm ten minutes early.”

That gets Jolie’s attention and she grins dopily. “You’re brilliant, you,” she mumbles, burying her face into Yaz’s neck. Yaz smiles happily, even as her girlfriend’s cold nose presses into her skin, bringing her out in goosebumps. She gathers Jo into her arms and draws lazy circles with the tip of her finger onto her back.

Five minutes later, Yaz can feel Jolie snoring into her neck again and she smiles. She would love to stay curled up in bed with her girlfriend all day, but her early shift, first day back at uni and Jolie’s elbow pressing into her bladder say otherwise. With reluctance, she detangles herself from gangly limbs, crawling out of bed as quietly as she can. Jolie immediately flops over, starfishing on the bed as her hair fans out around her head like a halo. Tucking the duvet back over her sprawled form to protect her from the harsh January cold, she drops a kiss to her forehead and makes her way to the bathroom to start her day.

* * *

  
  


She’s just about to head out the door to work, nerves churning in her belly (which she refuses to acknowledge) when Jolie emerges from the bathroom, hair wild, eyes sleepy and wearing Yaz’s hoodie _again._

“You off?” she asks, pulling the slightly too long sleeves over her fingertips.

Yaz nods, picking her backpack up from the floor. “Are you still good to meet for lunch? Also, you’ve stolen my hoodie.”

Jolie grins sheepishly and yawns, stepping towards Yaz to pull her into a loose hug. “Very good for lunch, even set an alarm on my phone so I don’t get distracted and forget.”

Yaz grins right back, pressing a kiss to the corner of her lips. “Brilliant. Could I maybe have my hoodie back though, I might freeze if I walk to work without it?”

Jolie pouts at the idea of having to remove the very cozy hoodie, every bit the petulant child, and Yaz suppresses a giggle at her girlfriend’s expression. Her face lights up though, and she raises a single finger to Yaz, telling her to wait a moment, before dashing back to the bedroom.

She returns gleefully clutching one of her own hoodies: dusty pink with a rainbow embroidered at the top left. 

“Here, take this one. I refuse to take yours off, it’s too comfy.”

Yaz rolls her eyes but accepts the article of clothing anyway, tugging it over her head and flicking her braid over her shoulder. 

“This is an excellent hoodie, babe. Now, I really have to go before I’m late.”

Jolie is reluctant to let her go, but does anyway, not before giving her a kiss and a tight hug of encouragement for her first day back.

“I’ll see you later, I love you,” she murmurs into her ear, before stepping back to let her make her way out of the door. It sends warmth rippling through Yaz, the words are new and exciting and so true it makes her giddy.

“Love you too, babe,” Yaz grins before closing the door behind her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I loved writing this chapter, I hope you all enjoyed it :)
> 
> As always, I can be found on tumblr @emmyphant if you want to say hi/send me prompts and ideas!  
> Chapter title is a lyric from this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=acYpxd17eIc  
> Yaz's dress: https://www.21buttons.com/i/47292410  
> Jolie's shirt: https://www.johnlewis.com/rails-charli-watercolour-star-print-shirt-white/p3587521


	12. Violet Lightning Has No Thunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the definition of idiot gays.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay on this one, I had the chapter planned for so long, but executing it was a totally different matter, so I just ended up writing a bunch of other stuff for these idiots. Anyway, it's here now, and I'm sorry!
> 
> tw: brief mention of suicidal thoughts

When Yaz trudges through the door for her Wednesday afternoon shift, she’s dragging her feet and barely holding her head up. She’s only been back at uni for two and a half weeks, but it’s been long and tiring and the sudden change to the routine she’d fallen into over the last year is a shock to the system.

“Is Clara around?” she asks Grace and she fumbles to tie her apron behind her back, frowning in frustration when she drops the strings yet again.  _ You’ve been at this job for 2 years, why can’t you just tie the stupid apron? _

“Nope, she had to go for a checkup at the dentist. Did she not let you know?”

Yaz furrows her brow at the question. As hard as she tries, she can’t remember the conversation, but she also knows that Clara wouldn’t neglect to tell her.

“Hmm, I must’ve forgot,” she shrugs, resuming the futile task of tying her apron. When her fingers fumble and she drops it yet again, she curses under her breath, leaning against the doorframe in defeat. She looks up at Grace, fully expecting to be reprimanded for her slip of the tongue but instead the older woman is looking at her with a face of concern.

“Are you feeling okay, Yasmin?”

Yaz crumbles a little, she knows at this point Grace only uses her full name when she’s worried, her face proving the point.

“Not really, no,” she admits, hanging her head and biting her lip, hard, to stop herself from crying. Her eyes sting with the effort.

“C’mere, let me give you a hug, then you can tell me about it if you want,” she offers, and Yaz finally lets her barriers down, letting herself be held by Grace while her vision clouds over with moisture.

Grace slowly maneuvers her so they’re sitting on stools next to each other and Yaz lets herself be comforted until her sobs calm to small sniffles and hiccups. Grace wordlessly passes her a tissue to blow her nose, and then another one to wipe her eyes. Finally she sets a glass of water down in front of her, making sure she’s drunk at least half of it before she starts to talk.

“Better?” she asks, and Yaz nods meekly. 

“Uni’s hard, Grace,” she admits, smiling a touch at the obviousness of the statement.

“Kind of supposed to be, love. That’s not all though, is it?” Grace pushes, and Yaz shakes her head.

“Feeling a bit...overwhelmed. And lonely. Mum’s on the night shift this month, dad’s been away for work, Sonya’s just got a new job. I thought it would be nice having such a quiet flat to come home to, but it’s weird,” she shrugs, taking another sip of the water.

“Oh, that’s bad timing. What about Jolie, have you not been spending time with her?”

Yaz has to think about that question. They’ve been spending roughly the same amount of time together, but they’ve both significantly busier and more stressed, so the time they have had together has been spent mostly studying or sleeping. They’d even had to sacrifice their Saturday date day last weekend because they both had so much work already. Even though she’s still seeing her, she’s missing her bubbly presence, her reassuring warmth.

“Erm, yeah. We’re both really busy though, not really properly spending time with her.” Yaz rests her chin on her fist at the last statement, staring intently into the last of the water in the bottom of her glass in an effort to avoid looking at Grace.

“You miss her, don’t you,” Grace concludes, and Yaz affirms the older woman’s suspicions with a small nod. 

“S’weird though, I still see her all the time.” Yaz tries to shrug off the admittance as soon as she makes it. She thinks it’s silly, it’s juvenile, to “miss” someone after only two and a half weeks “apart”, except they hadn’t really been apart, they hadn’t stopped seeing each other.

“It’s not though love, you’re used to having time to actually spend  _ with _ each other, not just in each other’s presence,” Grace reassures, pulling Yaz into another, even tighter hug. “Do you want to give her a call, do you think that would help?”

“Can’t, she’s at work, late shift too,” Yaz shakes her head against Grace’s shoulder where she’s still trapped in a hug. 

Grace pulls back from Yaz and dithers for a moment, her initial plan clearly not being a viable one. “When do you next see her then. Properly?”

Yaz thinks for a moment. She knows Jo would most likely stop by the café on her way into uni tomorrow morning, and Yaz will be working then. But she would be leaving as quickly as she had arrived, most likely, her hefty final semester schedule pulling her in earlier and earlier each day. So that probably doesn’t count. And then their respective schedules for the rest of the day are so messy that they don’t even have a spare 10 minutes to stop and say hi.

“Friday afternoon,” she answers with a sigh. “She’ll be picking me up from my last lecture, then we’ll walk back to hers and we’ll spend the weekend together like we always do.” She smiles at the thought of Jo to herself for the whole weekend, and then her mouth turns down when she remembers just how many readings she has to do, which most likely means her girlfriend will be drowning in work too.

“Okay then. Make sure you talk to her, tell her how you’re feeling. I know you kid, I know what you get like when you don’t talk about things. We can’t have you doing that, can we?” Her tone is firm but comforting, and it just about does the trick. Yaz smiles weakly and nods, moving to stand up.

“Good. Now let me tie that apron for you, wash your face, take some deep breaths and then go and focus on your shift. It’ll be over before you know it, then you can sleep and start fresh tomorrow. Sound like a plan?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Yaz confirms, turning round so Grace can fix her apron before pushing her in the direction of the bathroom.

* * *

"I’m beat,” Jolie announces, flopping down on her sofa the moment they walk in through the door. Yaz follows in behind her, actually taking the time to rid herself of her coat, shoes and backpack before wandering to stand awkwardly in the middle of the room. Not only because her girlfriend is currently occupying the only space where she could comfortably sit, but also due to the fact that she needs to confront how she’s feeling and needs to talk to the other woman about it.

“Something up, Yaz?” the blonde asks when she turns her head over, squinting at her with one eye. Instead of answering though, Yaz twists her hands in front of her and chews her bottom lip. She’s scared. Petrified. Last time she had tried to tell someone what she wanted out of a relationship it had gone...well it had gone badly.

“Yaz, talk to me.” Jolie’s firm but kind voice cuts through her thoughts sharply, bringing her back to the room.

“I miss you,” she blurts out, immediately snapping her mouth shut again and staring at the carpet, regret at letting her words out enveloping her.

Jolie sits up properly and stares at her in confusion, shrugging off her yellow raincoat and letting it fall to the floor. “What d’you mean? I’m literally sitting right here.”

Yaz takes a breath. It’s now or never, she decides. “We don’t … we don’t see each other properly any more. Yeah, we still spend time together, but we’re both so busy that we’re not actually spending time  _ together,  _ together. I just miss you, that’s all.” Her voice is shaking but she’s still standing in the middle of the room, her legs refusing to let her move to the sofa to sit down next to her girlfriend. Besides, the height advantage is making her feel like she can actually be in control of this conversation.

“Yaz, I’m a final year engineering student. I have a job. I’m going to be insanely busy, I can’t exactly help it.” Her tone is a little sharp and it pokes at Yaz, causing her belly to twist uncomfortably. Jolie’s never spoken to her like that before, and she doesn’t like it.

“I know that, I’m busy too, but I don’t like not being able to spend time together,” she shoots back, trying to stop her anxiety bubbling into anger.

“Well, I don’t know what to suggest,” Jolie bristles, voice raised and her elbows locking as she pushes the heels of her hands into the sofa either side of her legs, shoulders tense and up around her eyes.

Suddenly, Yaz feels the melting pot of anxiety bubbling steadily in the bottom of her stomach explode into white hot anger and outright fear, splattering everywhere. “I need to go,” she announces shakily, spinning on her heel and making her way to the door where she pulls her boots on roughly.

“Wait, Yaz, please. Talk to me, let’s figure this out.” Jolie’s voice has switched from sharp to desperate, and she reaches out a hand to Yaz, grasping her forearm in an attempt to stop her.

“Get off me, Jolie!” Yaz hisses, snatching her arm back as she grabs her coat and backpack, not bothering to put them on before she opens the door and steps out. 

“Yaz, I’m sorry, Please can we just talk about this?”

Yaz ignores the pleas coming from behind her as she stalks down the corridor and to the stairs, the roaring in her head getting louder with every stop. It’s not until she’s crossed the bridge and is in the small park before she properly stops to put on her coat. She shivers, watching warily as the trees cast harsh, flickering shadows on the ground under the white streetlamps. She sets off for home at a rapid pace, trying and failing not to let the torrent of regret break down.

* * *

  
  


When Yaz arrives home, she slips into her room before she can be interrogated by her mum, making up a quick lie about Jolie having a cold and not wanting to give it to Yaz. The whole weekend she spends at the library, because she does genuinely have a lot of work to do, but it also gets her out of the flat and out of her own head. By Sunday evening, she’s pleased to note that not only is she all caught up with her work so far, but she’s actually slightly ahead, and can rest a little easier knowing that the uni stress is somewhat calmed, for now.

However on Monday morning when her 5:30 alarm blasts, calling her in for her one remaining early shift, she’s seriously regretting working through the weekend. She’d been adding Sunday night to the nights she would be spending at her girlfriend’s since the start of term, and now waking this early without Jo lying next to her, complaining pointlessly about the, as she would put it, ‘ungodly hour,’ is quite frankly having more of an effect on her as she would like, leaving a gaping hole in her morning routine. Last week she had joked that if the sun wasn’t up, they shouldn’t have to be either. The memory makes Yaz smile until she realises she won’t be getting that this morning, she doesn’t know when, or even if, she will again. Shaking her head to rid it off the thought, she begins to mechanically get ready for her day. 

Once at the café, Yaz goes through her shift on autopilot and she doesn’t even register than it’s almost 10am and Jolie hasn’t turned up for her usual morning hot chocolate until Clara points it out. Yaz very nearly snaps at her until she remembers that her conversation was with Grace last week, not her, and as far as Clara is aware, there’s nothing wrong between her and Jolie. Faltering for a moment, she comes up with a vague excuse about Jo booking an early slot in the workshop, and Clara accepts it with only a slightly suspicious glance. 

The next day continues much the same, Yaz going through her routine automatically and without really thinking about it. Get up, do homework, go to lectures, go to work, come home. Studiously ignore her phone for any messages from Jolie. 

On Wednesday afternoon, she slips through the front door as quietly as possible, but somehow, unsurprisingly, she doesn’t manage to sneak in unnoticed. She’s immediately pulled into a hug by her mum, her eyes wet with unshed tears. 

“Mum, what’s wrong? Is it Nani?” Yaz manages to splutter out through her surprise and concern.

“No, your Nani’s fine,” Najia frowns, stepping back and placing her hands on Yaz’s upper arms, squeezing tight. “We were worried about you.”

Yaz looks at her in confusion, her brain refusing to connect the dots and figure out why her mum is so upset. “Mum, why were you worried about me?”

“Yasmin, what date is it.”

“Wednesday.”

“No love, the  _ date, _ not the day,” Najia insists, her face growing more and more concerned.

Yaz thinks for a second, what is the date? “Erm … thirteenth of Febru- oh.” Yaz cuts herself off with the realisation. Today marks a year since the trial, a year since they had sentenced her ex, a year since she had had to sit in a stuffy courtroom, hurt and scared, forced to relive everything he had done to her in front of a room of complete strangers. 

“Yasmin, you’ve been so distant all week, and then when you were late home today, we thought … we thought you’d done something stupid.”

The look on her mum’s face is enough to cause Yaz to burst into tears, and she pulls her mum in for another hug. “Mum, I’m okay. I didn’t even remember what date it was. Uni’s just been insanely busy, that’s all,” Yaz reassures. She supposes she should really explain to her mum the entire reason why she’s been so distant, but she reasons with herself that upon remembering this key piece of information that she needs some time to herself to think it all over.

“You’re sure you’re okay? You haven’t thought about anything like that, at all?” her mum confirms, and Yaz humours her. 

“I haven’t mum, I promise,” Yaz confirms, steering her mum to the sofa and shrugging off her backpack. She can tell she’s going to be here for a while.

* * *

It’s a good two hours of reassuring her entire family before Yaz can excuse herself to her room. She finds that she’s exhausted but she can’t sleep, her brain desperate to figure out where she went so wrong last week.

Now that she really thinks about it, the pattern she and Jolie had so quickly fallen into bore a remarkable amount of similarity to the one in which she had fallen into with her ex when they had first started uni, and more so when they had actually moved in together. While she wasn’t officially living with Jo, she spent at least three nights a week there, usually four, so it was close enough. Then she remembers the way Jolie had snapped at her, and she instinctively curls in on herself a little. But she thinks about the way she had shouted, the reason. Yaz had been shouting at her. So she had shouted back. No, it wasn’t the way they should have been communicating, but it wasn’t unprovoked either. She uncurls, forcing her muscles to relax with the knowledge. Neither of them had been truly angry, just tired and frustrated and absolutely failing to communicate properly about what was bothering them. At least that was the case with Yaz, she’s not sure about Jo, but she could bet it is something along similar lines. Eventually, with every little piece of willpower she had, she reaches over and grabs her phone. It’s not even been a week of no communication and it’s already eating Yaz alive. She needs closure, one way or another, it can’t keep going.

> **Yaz: I’m sorry for how I spoke to you and that I walked out, I was out of order. I could try and apologise over text but I know that’s useless, I would much rather talk to you in person. Can we meet? x**

It’s a full, agonising thirty minutes of lying, staring at the ceiling before her phone vibrates gently on the pillow beside her and she swipes it up with such urgency that she almost knocks it down the side of her bed. 

> **Jolie: I have some things to apologise for too. I’ll pick you up tomorrow and we can go to my place as usual. And talk x**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .......I'm sorry
> 
> Chapter title source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vuc6ubWGn7Y


	13. I'm Always Pretty Happy When I'm Just Kicking Back With You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Literally just almost 8000 words of fluffiness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this makes up for the last chapter...  
> It's also entirely from Jolie's POV for a change, and because it's Chapter 13, it seemed appropriate!
> 
> TW for blood and vomiting (it's nothing bad I promise, one of these two just has to deal with the delights of menstruation 🙃)  
> Also a brief discussion of Yaz's past relationship
> 
> Enjoy!

Jolie leans against the wall outside an insignificant seminar room on the third floor of the psychology building, trying very hard to look engrossed in her phone, but in reality she’s far from it. Nerves are fluttering in her belly and the only thing she’s really interested in on that screen is the time. Two minutes to six, Yaz should be out soon. As if she could read her mind, a message pops up at the top of the screen from Yaz, informing her they’re just packing up now and the blonde smiles. She’d asked Yaz to give her a heads up the first week she’d picked her up when she’d been overwhelmed by the sudden influx of people. She appreciated it.

As predicted, the door to the room swings open just over a minute later and students begin to filter out the door. As usual, Yaz is one of the last out of the room, although perhaps not so usually she appears to be in a deep conversation with the professor. Well, maybe it’s more just the professor who is really paying attention, Yaz is nodding along but shoots Jo an apologetic glance as she starts to get lead off down the corridor. Jolie stifles a giggle as she pushes herself away from the wall, following a slightly bemused looking Yaz in whichever direction she’s headed. Finally they stop at the stairwell, the professor bidding Yaz a goodbye as she turns down yet another corridor, presumably to her office.

“Sorry,” Yaz grimaces, staying where she was standing but offering up a reserved smile. “She really can’t take a hint.”

“S’fine,” she replies, waving a hand in a nonchalant manner. “Back to mine?”

Yaz nods, holding open the door in an invitation to Jolie to slot in next to her. She complies, falling into step beside Yaz but refraining from holding her hand or walking too close; there’s still tension between them and an unresolved argument, she’s going to give them both the space they need until they can talk things over properly.

The walk back to her flat is pleasant enough, the two women filling the air between them with idle chatter so as not to draw attention to the precarious feel to the walk, as if it could all shatter into a million pieces with one wrong word. Although, that might be a little dramatic, Jolie thinks. She’s nervous as anything, and imagines Yaz must be feeling the same.

When they finally make it back to her flat, Jolie lets out a quiet sigh of relief. Despite her own more relaxed nature that she was hoping to project, Yaz still seems tense as she stands awkwardly in the doorway, shuffling from foot to foot. Jolie sits herself down on the sofa, tucking her feet up under her in a casual manner, ignoring her still racing heartbeat, and pats the space at the other end of the sofa, inviting Yaz to sit down.

Yaz falters for a second, before sinking awkwardly into the other end of the sofa, perching on the edge and twisting her hands in her lap. Jolie longs to reach out and take them into her own like she always does, but she also recognises the need for Yaz to be in control here, so she resists.

“I’m sorry for shouting at you Yaz, I shouldn’t have done that. Or grabbing your arm, I didn’t think,” Jolie starts, giving Yaz an apologetic look.

“S’fine. Well, it’s not fine, but I forgive you. I think you only did because I shouted at you first, and you’re stressed,” Yaz suggests tentatively. She looks up from her lap and across at Jolie through guarded eyes, almost as though she’s scared of her.

“Hit the nail on the head there, Yaz.” She smiles and looks right at Yaz, who gives a soft smile in return.

“I shouldn’t have shouted at you though, either,” her girlfriend admits, and Jo huffs softly in agreement.

“You see, when I said I miss you, I didn’t really explain very well what I actually meant.”

“I didn’t exactly give you a chance to,” Jolie points out, chuckling softly and Yaz shakes her head back at her, smiling too.

“True. But, what I meant was that I know we’re both really busy now, and even though we still spend every weekend together, and three or four nights a week, it doesn’t really feel like I’m getting to spend time  _ with _ you. Does that make sense?” Yaz’s voice is shaking a little with nerves, and she’s folding her hands again in her lap. This time Jolie shuffles closer and when Yaz doesn’t protest or go to move away, takes her hands to try and calm some of the anxieties. She smiles at Yaz encouragingly, nodding her understanding and encouraging her to continue talking.

“These last few weeks, they’ve been a lot. I forgot how much work uni was, and now I’m having to meet all these new people on top of that. And then, erm, this week…” Yaz trails off, and Jolie automatically gives her hand a squeeze in a show of understanding and encouragement.

“Well, it’s been a year since the trial. This Wednesday just gone, was when he got sentenced. I didn’t realise that it had been a year, not until my mum pointed it out, and then things started to make sense. The way things were going between us, well it reminded me of him, when we moved in together, when things started to get really bad.” Yaz is staring at her lap and their joined hands now, and Jolie can practically feel the intensity of her gaze burning a hole into her knuckles. 

“I think it must have just been there, in the back of my mind, and everything got a bit too much. Then when I tried to tell you that I miss you, I got really scared. Last time I tried to tell someone that I didn’t think the relationship was going well, it didn’t exactly end fantastically. And then when you got annoyed with me, my brain sort of short-circuited, and that’s how we ended up in this mess.” Yaz finishes her sentence and leans her shoulder against the back of the sofa, her hands sweating between Jolie’s. 

Jolie lets the words hand in the air between them for a moment, trying to sort them out in her head. When she does speak again, it’s hesitant, she really doesn’t want to mess this up, but there's genuine kindness and empathy in her voice. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way, I promise you, that was not my intention. I did though, and I’m truly sorry. It’s not all your fault. I think I realise now that I thought something was off too, but voicing my feelings has never been my strong suit.” She chuckles in a self-deprecating manner at the last admittance, and Yaz smiles right back.

“Don’t worry, me neither.”

“I guess it’s something we both have to work on then,” Jolie concludes, shuffling closer to Yaz until their knees knock together.

“Yeah, we can do that together,” Yaz confirms tentatively, her eyes sparkling with a few unshed tears as they briefly flick towards Jolie’s lips then back up to her eyes. The blonde doesn’t miss the action though, and tentatively leans forward, slowly closing the gap between them. To her surprise, Yaz is the one to cover the rest of the distance, freeing her hands from Jolie’s grip and bringing them up to loop around the back of the neck. She pulls her closer, lips crashing together as she tangles her fingers into the short hairs at the base of Jolie’s neck. Faltering slightly, the blonde pulls back to rest their foreheads together. 

“Yaz, are you sure about this,” she asks, because really, Yaz’s mood had changed very quickly.

“One hundred percent,” she replies, pulling Jo back towards her but kissing with a little less force and urgency, more love and care.

“I still love you, just making sure you know that,” Yaz mumbles, once they’ve parted again but are still resting their foreheads together, arms looped loosely around each other’s neck.

“Good, ‘cause I still love you too. You don’t need to kiss me to remind me of that though,” Jolie affirms.

“I do like kissing you though,” Yaz smiles softly, her breath tickling over Jolie’s lips. The blonde sighs happily, enjoying the tender moment until a thought occurs to her and she moves back a little, worrying her lower lip as usual.

“Yaz, I need to know, what was his sentence? You don’t have to tell me right now, whenever you’re comfortable. Just, if I’m with you, I think that’s something I need to know.”

Yaz sighs heavily and leans back from Jolie, and she’s worried she’s said something very wrong. “Two years, indeterminate. Basically means he has to serve at least two years in prison, and when those two years are up, the parole board will decide if he can be released or not.” Her words are mechanical and rehearsed, similar to when she explained what had happened when he’d been arrested. Jolie supposes she’s probably had to go over this so many times though, it’s easier if she removes any emotion from the situation.

“So that means he’s got one more year,” she confirms, and Yaz nods, discreetly shuffling closer again so Jolie can wrap her in a tight hug.

“Well, when that time comes, I’ll be there for you.” Jo is fully aware of the weight of her words; they were intentional. She honestly believes that she and Yaz will still be together in a year, she really doesn’t see either of them wanting to end things, not with how much they had missed each other over this last, torturous week brought on by nothing more than poor communication. 

“Thank you,” Yaz speaks into her shoulder, fully wrapping her arms around Jolie’s middle and squeezing to tell her she heard what she said, and she feels the same way. Yeah, they were going to be alright.

* * *

  
  


Later that night, when she’s sure Yaz is asleep, Jolie begins to carefully inch out of bed. They’d fallen asleep how they usually did; Jo as the little spoon, Yaz as the big spoon, so extracting herself from her girlfriend’s arms wrapped around her middle is a tricky task. Not that she’s complaining.

Padding softly through to the living room (which is really her office) she sits down at her desk, flipping open her laptop lid and tucking a foot under her, ready for the blank excel document sitting in front of her. It’s past midnight, she and Yaz had stayed up late talking about nothing particularly important, just enjoying intertwining themselves and each other’s company, and then Yaz had taken precisely 46 minutes to fall asleep. Not that Jo was counting, it just became concerning that it took her that long. She supposed that she was still more anxious than she was letting on.

30 minutes later, she’s so engrossed in the numbers and colourful boxes that she doesn’t notice the quiet shuffling from the bedroom behind her, nor the soft call of her name. When a hand lands on her shoulder, she yelps and jumps so hard she actually comes out of her chair, smacking her knee against the underside of her desk and wincing. 

“Yaz! Why are you awake?” She questions, spinning around in her chair so Yaz is now standing right in front of her and frowning at her girlfriend’s amused expression.

“I could ask the same question back at you,” Yaz smirks, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh! Well, you see, I had an idea about how we can be better about organising our time together, so I waited to make sure you were asleep first, didn’t want to miss out on any of said together time, and then I opened an excel document, and here we are. Love a good spreadsheet, me,” she grins, and she can’t help but notice that Yaz is smiling in defeat at her.

“Right,” Yaz says slowly. “What exactly are you doing?” She peers at Jolie’s screen, and the blonde happily launches into an explanation, gesticulating wildly with her hands in her enthusiasm.

“So, I’m trying to make a visual representation of what our time looks like. So far I’ve got navy blue and light blue for my uni and work respectively, and then the same for you but with light purple and dark purple. Red is where we both clash. And that’s as far as I got, need to do designated date time, down time, and flex time. I think that’s all.” Jolie grins proudly at the end of her mini speech, and Yaz just smiles tiredly at her. Sitting down in her lap, Jolie gives a soft huff of surprise as her desk chair protests under their combined weight. 

“Babe, this is amazing of you, and I appreciate the effort so much, but it’s almost one in the morning, come back to bed?” Yaz asks, giving Jo her sweetest, softest face. Although maybe that’s just her tired face.

“You could bring your laptop with you?” She suggests, and Jo grins right back, cupping her cheeks and kissing her right on her hairline.

“C’mon you big softie, back to bed,” Yaz teases, hopping up and taking Jolie’s hand to lead her back down the hallway while the other grabs her laptop.

Back in bed, she lets Yaz curl up into her side, resting her head on her chest and watching Jolie slowly organise the coloured boxes on her screen. One arm comes up and winds its way around Yaz’s shoulder, the tip of her index finger drawing lazy circles into her girlfriend’s upper arm and shoulder. The second Yaz starts breathing heavily against her, she knows she’s done for. Eyes beginning to burn as she stares at the screen, Jolie barely has time to flip the lid down and place the device on her bedside table before sliding down the bed carefully to avoid waking Yaz. Keeping one arm wrapped around her, she hooks a knee over Yaz’s thigh, anchoring her in place. She’s asleep within minutes, her girlfriend’s proximity and steady breathing pulling her into slumber.

* * *

The next four weeks pass fairly easily, Jolie’s painstakingly maintained colour block schedule proving surprisingly useful. It helps her be a little bit more organised and knowing that she’s splitting her time well, and for Yaz it reassures her what she’s supposed to be doing with who, and when. Of course, there are a few minor arguments as the pair become more stressed with the ever-increasing amount of university work and Jolie having to spend more and more hours in the workshop and the computer labs to complete her final project (which she had explained to Yaz is the equivalent of a dissertation) but they find it all not too hard to solve, now that they know to bring things up with each other  _ before _ they escalate. They’re not perfect, but who is?

This particular Friday though, Jolie is practically fizzing with excitement. Her project is almost done, she can’t do any more on it at this point until she can get back in the workshop, which won’t be until Tuesday, and by some small miracle she’s actually completely caught up on everything else. Yaz’s late seminar has been cancelled too, meaning she can go and pick her up straight from the library, giving them plenty of time to enjoy the evening together, and for Jolie to take Yaz for her surprise ‘date’. They’d (just) missed Valentine’s Day thanks to their argument, and while she wasn’t usually one for the celebration she had previously deemed nothing but a money-making scheme, she has a girlfriend now, and she wants to celebrate properly. She had also decided that Yaz deserved a surprise, and after pestering Clara to determine when Yaz would have ample free time so that it wouldn’t interfere with her studies, she had landed on this weekend. 

That’s how she finds herself parked outside the university library, leaning in what she hopes is a casual manner against her car, clutching two takeaway cups of tea and watching the doors for her girlfriend. When Yaz drags herself through the doors, looking every part the exhausted student, Jolie straightens up and grins at her. Yaz smiles back when she gets closer, and Jolie automatically goes to open her arms which Yaz falls into gratefully, hugging her back hard. Her messy bun has come loose and the stray curls are beginning to tickle Jo’s nose, and she tries desperately to ignore it in favour of holding Yaz but eventually she’s beaten. Turning her head away just in time, she sneezes dramatically and Yaz laughs at her.

“You alright there, babe?” She teases, pushing Jolie’s stray hair behind her ear.

“Tickly hair,” she splutters before remembering why she’s here in the first place, and turning back to the bonnet to pick up her favourite rainbow travel mug with Yaz’s extra large cup of tea and hands it over to her.

“Oh my god, I love you,” Yaz smiles, taking the cup but not before planting a kiss on Jolie’s cheek, and the blonde blushes predictably. 

“Long week?” She asks, and Yaz nods, rolling her eyes.

“So long. I’m all caught up though, even a little bit ahead. All yours for the weekend,” she grins, sipping her tea and rocking on her toes slightly.

“I know, I already checked in with Clara, and now I’m taking  _ you _ on a date,” Jo grins, taking Yaz’s tea and opening the car door for her.

Yaz slides into the car without question and retrieves the tea, but when Jolie starts driving Yaz falters.

“Wait Jo, where are we going. I look like I’ve been sitting in a library for five hours. Well, I have been,” she smiles, self-consciously brushing the loose hairs out of her face and pulling her sleeves over her fingers.

“You look adorable, babe,” Jolie reassures, keeping her eyes on the road but reaching a hand over to Yaz to give her knee a gentle squeeze. “Besides, it doesn’t really matter, because we’re going to go hang out with some cute dogs!” She grins when she glances over at Yaz’s face of confusion. “I was too excited to not tell you. Anyway, I read this article the other day that says that playing with dogs is good for your serotonin and stress, so I talked to my boss, and we’ve got two hours to play with as many pups as you want.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. We’ve got another 15 minutes or so in the car though, so if you need some time to, do whatever you want to do with your appearance, you can. Not that you need to,” she grins, and Yaz smiles back shyly.

“Thanks. Although it’s technically the first time I’m meeting your coworkers, so I might do something about this,” she replies, making a general gesture to her hair.

“Whatever makes you feel comfortable, babe.” Jolie gives Yaz another smile before concentrating on the increasing traffic in front of them.

A little over 15 minutes later, Jolie pulls into the car park and looks at Yaz next to her, who is still self-consciously fiddling with her hair and bouncing her leg a little.

“Are you feeling nervous, Yaz?”

Her suspicions are confirmed when Yaz nods, turning to look at her with an anxious look on her face.

“I’m a little apprehensive to meet your coworkers.” Jolie raises her eyebrows. “Okay, maybe more than a little,” Yaz admits.

Jolie reaches over and takes Yaz’s hand, smiling comfortingly. “Take a minute. We’ll probably only talk to them for a couple of minutes, then it’ll just be me and cute puppies.”

Yaz grins at the end of the sentence, shifting in her seat. “Well, that’s definitely an appealing concept. C’mon then.” She unbuckles her seatbelt and slides out of the car, Jolie following her. They join hands again and walk through the front doors, only to be immediately greeted by a blonde pulling Jolie into a hug.

“Jolie! How are you? And this must be Yaz,” she exclaims, and Jolie stiffens a little under her touch. As well as she knew Rose, she still couldn’t get used to having anyone but Yaz be that close to her. Awkwardly extracting herself from the hug and opting to clasp Yaz’s hand instead, she smiles at Rose.

“I’m good. And yes, this is the one and only Yaz,” she confirms, subtly squeezing her girlfriend’s hand in reassurance.

“Nice to meet you, Yaz,” Rose smiles, offering a hand for her to shake. She does firmly, and Jolie smiles at them getting along.

“So, the place is all yours. There’s that new litter of puppies that need exercising in the yard if you want to take them out first, then just take whoever you want!” Rose confirms, handing Jolie an enormous set of keys.

“Ooh great. Yaz you’ll love them. And don’t worry, not the same ones that peed all over Rose,” she grins, smirking at her friend who whacks her lightly on the arm.

“You told her about that?” Rose whines, but without any real offence in her voice.

“Yeah! Don’t worry, I told her about my own little incident as well,” Jolie reassures, taking Yaz’s hand again.

“Which one,” Rose fires back, narrowing her eyes and smirking.

“Babe, what does she mean, ‘which one’?” Yaz questions, eyeing Jolie careful, who feels herself grow warm under the scrutiny.

“There … erm … there may have been more than just that one incident,” she blushes, looking anywhere but at Yaz and Rose.

“Oh, I am so going to get those stories out of you later,” Yaz smirks, kissing Jolie on the cheek and sending her an even more furious shade of red.

They spend the next two hours in dog heaven; at one point they both end up lying flat on the floor, puppies squirming around on top of them. Jolie is happy that she can see how much Yaz is enjoying spending time with the dogs, and how she visibly relaxes over the course of their visit. 

By the end, they’re both relaxed and happy, Jolie pleased that the first day of her surprise dates has had the desired effect. She hadn’t wanted to point it out to Yaz, but she’d noticed that her girlfriend had still been very tense over the last few weeks, despite her calm exterior and she’d decided they needed to do something about that.

“Thank you for that,” Yaz smiles when they climb back into the car.

“Of course, thought you might need it.”

“I really appreciate it. That was so thoughtful of you,” Yaz affirms, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Home?” Jolie asks, turning the key in the ignition and the car comes to life.

“Home,” Yaz smiles, buckling her seatbelt.

* * *

  
  


Jolie sighs happily when Yaz pushes her gently back into the sofa, straddling her lap and kissing her softly. Warm palms slip under the fabric of her jumper and ghost along her sides. She smiles dopily, grasping the bottom of Yaz’s t-shirt and waiting for a nod of consent before reciprocating the affections. 

Over the last month or so, they’d been getting a little more adventurous as Yaz got more comfortable with intimacy, and Jolie became more familiar with what she’s actually doing and what Yaz’s boundaries are, how she gently encourages her to move them just a little further each time.

They pause for a breather, Jolie’s hands coming to rest comfortably on Yaz’s hips while hers are curled loosely around her neck, foreheads resting together. She can smell the remnants of the sticky toffee pudding they shared on Yaz’s breath and she smiles.

“Jo.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I was thinking … I was thinking … erm … could we maybe try something.” Yaz’s voice is shaking a little and Jolie leans back, giving her girlfriend room to breathe while she takes in her worried expression.

“I wanted to, well I …” Yaz trails off, hands twisting anxiously behind Jolie’s neck.

“Take a moment, breathe,” Jolie commands gently and Yaz shifts from her lap, sitting on the sofa next to her, her whole body tense.

“What did you want to say to me, Yaz?” Her tone is gentle and non-judgemental, but still hopefully encouraging enough so that Yaz would open up to her.

“I want to do this -” she pauses to wave her hand between them “- but without shirts.” Her words come out all in a tumble, and Jolie can’t help but smile, swallowing her own nerves.

“We can do that,” she reassures, squeezing Yaz’s knee.

“I’m just a bit nervous for you to, well see,” she murmurs, gesturing at her upper body.

“We should have a safe word. Say it and we’ll stop straight away,” she suggests sensibly. Yaz nods slowly.

“How ‘bout ‘pears’. They’re the worst fruit,” the blonde suggests, and Yaz snorts with a small burst of laughter.

“Not sure I agree on them being the worst fruit, but that works,” she shrugs. However Jolie notices that she makes no move to initiate things and she’s still holding a lot of tension in her shoulders. Then a thought occurs to her.

“Hey, Yaz. See this here?” She starts, twisting her arm and pointing to a series of small white dots of scar tissue on her elbow. “Got those when I were 10. My friend dared me to stand on the edge of the trampoline while he was bouncing on it, and I went toppling straight onto the gravel.”

Yaz smiles and traces up the pattern with the tip of her index finger before looking back at Jolie with an aura of trust in her eyes. Jolie really hopes she understands where she’s going with this.

“And here,” she continues, pointing to the fingers on her left hand, “is the result is when I tried to pick up a pan by the hot bit, not the handle,” she chuckles. “Couldn’t write for two weeks! Tricky time that.”

Yaz smiles and nods, prompting her to continue. And she does. She points out and explains the origin of every single scar on her body (thankfully all of them are easy to show and not in places more intimate.) Everything from leg-shaving accidents from her younger teen years, the thin lines across her collarbone where her eight-year-old self had taken a shine to the neighbour’s cat who hadn’t exactly reciprocated, the faint one through her eyebrow after a literal run-in with a door, and the thick red line on her ankle bone after a particularly nasty argument with her childhood razor scooter. She goes over every single tiny imperfection caused by burns and scrapes in the workshop, and finally finishes with the countless friction-burn scars on her knees gained as a child.

She turns back to Yaz, cupping her hands gently around her cheeks and looking her right in the eyes.

“Yaz, I showed you all my scars because I don’t want you to be scared to show me yours. Now, that doesn’t mean you have to show me right now if you’re still not comfortable, but I thought it might help a bit. Just remember, you’re beautiful regardless.” She finishes her mini speech with a long exhale, still cupping Yaz’s cheeks while her eyes search her girlfriend’s for any sort of reaction. 

What she doesn’t expect is for Yaz to start crying quietly, shuffling over to lean in Jolie who holds her tight. It doesn’t last long though and she moves to sit on Jolie’s lap again, sniffing away the last of her tears and planting a butterfly kiss on her forehead.

“You alright, babe?”

“Yeah, I just … that was a lot. I mean, it meant a lot, and I think you’re amazing to have done that for me,” she stumbles, and now it’s Jolie’s turn to get a little emotional. Well, maybe a bit more than ‘a little emotional.’

“I just want you to be comfortable with this,” she replies earnestly.

“I am. Are you comfortable, though? Because we’ve only really talked about me in this context, we need to think about you too.”

That catches Jolie off guard, and she swallows thickly. She’d been using Yaz’s hesitance as an excuse to ignore her own trepidations about the whole situation, but now they were at the stage where they were about to  _ properly _ see each other, nerves were beginning to take their hold.

“I’m a tad nervous. This, what we’re about to do, well this minus bras is the furthest I’ve ever gone with someone. And this means a lot more to me,” she says frankly. There’s no point in dancing around the situation.

Yaz stares at her for a second before finding her voice again. “So you’re saying you’ve never…”

“Nope.”

“Right.” Yaz nods. “Well, I’m not exactly experienced in doing all of this with a woman, so it’s new territory for both of us I guess,” she shrugs, leaning in to kiss Jolie again.

Jolie bunches her hands in the bottom of Yaz’s faded star wars t-shirt (which she hugely approves of) and looks up at her girlfriend, who is hovering just millimetres from her slightly swollen lips.

“May I?”

Instead of giving a verbal response, Yaz moves Jolie’s hands away from the hem of her top and takes it herself, slowly but surely tugging it up and over her head. At the same time, Jolie pulls her own jumper off and then all of a sudden they’re both topless. 

Yaz is the first one to break the awkward silence and glances down at Jolie. The blonde’s heart is in her mouth when her girlfriend looks at her but her anxieties soon fade away when Yaz smiles softly and leans forward to kiss her.

“God, Jolie, you’re gorgeous,” she whispers, pupils blown wide.

“Really?”

“Really. You’re beautiful,” she assures, drawing her in for another slow kiss. Jolie reaches up to tangle her fingers in Yaz’s hair, scratching lightly at her scalp and Yaz sighs. Jolie keeps her eyes trained on Yaz’s face the whole time, allowing her to keep the control over what she sees when.

“You can look,” Yaz whispers, glancing downwards.

“You sure?”

“Yup. Zero pears in sight,” Yaz replies, making Jolie chuckle quietly.

She glances down, eyes sweeping over exposed, smooth brown skin and her slight natural curves before moving back up to Yaz’s eyes.

“Oh my god, Yaz, you’re  _ stunning,”  _ she breathes.

Yaz goes to say something, but Jolie gets there first.  _ “Every  _ part of you.”

To prove it, she kisses her own palm and then presses that palm against Yaz’s scars while leaning back in for another kiss. Yaz’s hands start to trail up and down pale skin, her touch feather-light and gentle. Jolie reciprocates, both of them giving each other space to back out but also expressing how much trust and care is swirling between them.

When Yaz lightly runs her fingers across Jolie’s ribs, just underneath her bra, she can’t help but squirm and let out a small giggle. Yaz raises her eyebrows at her and starts laughing too.

“Ticklish?”

Jolie nods, continuing to laugh, and it’s infectious.

“I’m going to remember that,” Yaz grins, moving to tickle her again. But Jolie’s reactions are too fast, and grabbing Yaz around the waist, she twists them and Yaz lands flat on her back on the sofa, Jolie lying on top of her. 

“Hi,” Jolie breathes. The feeling of them being pressed together like this is a lot, and it’s clear that Yaz is feeling it too, because she goes to tickle Jolie again, who squirms on top of her like a small child, laughing and squealing. Yaz joins in, and soon enough they’re both laughing too hard to pay attention to what they were doing in the first place.

“Wait, pears,” Yaz suddenly blurts out, and Jolie stops immediately, sitting up.

“Hang on, no. It’s not ‘cause I was uncomfortable with this situation, it’s just I drank a lot of lemonade at dinnertime and the laughing and you lying on top of me, well … I really need the bathroom,” she explains, and Jo scrambles up from where she’s still sitting on Yaz’s stomach, laughing as she watches her girlfriend hurry off down the hallway.

* * *

  
  


The next morning, Jolie is awoken annoyingly early by a familiar cramping sensation in her stomach and a way-too-high temperature. Groaning, she shifts experimentally and sighs when she notices the dampness in her underwear. Yaz stirs next to her, cracking open an eye and squinting at her. “You alright, babe?”

“Surprise shark attack,” she mumbles, covering her face with her hands in embarrassment.

“Huh?”

“Period came early,” she confirms, turning her head to look at Yaz.

“Oh, alright. Go on, go and take a shower, I’ll sort the sheets out.” Yaz is properly awake now and sits up, pulling the duvet back to encourage Jolie to get up too. She sits up reluctantly, but as soon as she does her head swims and her stomach lurches.

“Oh god, going to be sick,” she mumbles, stumbling out of bed in her urgency to get to the bathroom. Yaz scrambles too, a hand on her shoulder and another on the small of her back as she guides her out of the room.

They  _ just  _ about make it to the floor by the toilet before Jolie begins to bring up the contents of her stomach. Yaz rubs between her shoulder blades and holds limp strands of blonde hair away from her face while she heaves, her stomach clenching painfully and her throat and nose burning. 

When her body finally,  _ finally,  _ decides it’s done, she slumps into Yaz with a defeated groan.

“That were horrible,” she mumbles, resting her sweaty forehead against Yaz’s collarbone.

“I know, babe, I know,” she soothes, and Jolie sighs a little when Yaz brushes her hair behind her ear, kissing the top of her head softly.

“Don’t normally get this ill with it.” Her voice is croaky and her throat feels disgusting when she tries to speak.

“S’alright, it happens,” Yaz reassures. Somehow she’s managed to reach up to the sink and dampen a flannel from their position on the floor, and now she’s holding it in front of Jolie. She goes to take it and clean her own face, but Yaz shakes her head gently, cupping Jolie’s chin and dabbing around her mouth and nose, before taking a different part of the flannel and swiping the cool material over her face. She would protest, but it feels so nice against her burning skin that she lets the weight of her head rest in Yaz’s hand, closing her eyes momentarily. 

She hears Yaz rinse and squeeze the excess water from the flannel again, and then it’s pressed into her hands. “Here, hold this on the back of your neck to try and cool you down a bit, I’ll go and get you some water.” She feels Yaz shift her weight so she’s resting against the hard edge of the bathtub and then Yaz moves her hand up so she’s holding the cool cotton to the back of her neck. Jolie takes a deep breath and tries to concentrate on bringing her fever down, and then Yaz is back in front of her, murmuring her name and coaxing her to her feet. She holds her hips lightly to steady her while she rinses her mouth out over the sink, randomly planting kisses on her cheek and her chin and her shoulder as they stand there.

“Do you need a shower?” Yaz asks quietly and Jolie nods, wincing a little when it makes her head throb.

“Alright, you do that and leave your pyjamas in the sink. I’ll bring you some clean clothes.”

Jolie nods again, holding onto the edge of the counter while she still feels wobbly and Yaz kisses her temple lightly before backing out of the bathroom, leaving her to her shower.

Somehow she manages to undress herself and step into the shower without her legs deciding they’ve had enough and dumps her ruined pyjama bottoms in the sink like Yaz instructed. When the lukewarm spray of the shower hits her bare skin, she feels herself relax immediately. She jumps a little when Yaz knocks lightly at the door but calls to let her in, smiling to herself when she lets her know she’s brought her clean clothes and she’s taking the others down to the laundry room to wash along with her bed sheets. 

Despite her whole body aching with the fever, she takes her time in the shower, partly because she feels disgusting and wants to be as clean as possible, and partly because she’s embarrassed and doesn’t particularly want to face Yaz. Thankfully the shower is quiet enough and her front door loud enough that she can hear when Yaz leaves, and when she comes back she can hear her moving around in her bedroom on the other side of the wall. 

After another couple of minutes standing happily under the spray, she turns the water off regrettably because, as her granny used to say, “you’re going to turn into a prune.” She smiles as she wrings her hair out, then goes to step over the edge of the bathtub. However she doesn’t quite lift her leg high enough and catches her foot on the edge of the bath and loses her balance. In an attempt to right herself, her other foot slides on the still-wet floor of the bathtub and she topples backwards.

Before she knows it she’s landed in the bottom of the bath with a loud  _ thunk _ , hissing through her teeth at having caught the back of her shoulder on the bath tap in the process. It sends a shooting pain down her back and her arm, and she shifts gingerly so as not to press the rapidly swelling area against the hard acrylic of the tub.

“Jo, are you okay?” Yaz’s concerned voice rings sharply through the door, and Jolie shakes her head gingerly. And then, remembering that Yaz can’t actually see her, she gives a proper reply. 

“Slipped trying to get out. Don’t think anything’s broken, just whacked my shoulder pretty good,” she laughs awkwardly, not disguising her small yelp when she tries to push herself up from the floor.

“Do you need some help getting up?” Yaz asks kindly, thankfully not a hint of pity in her voice, and Jolie gives her a “yes” without really thinking about the situation. She really should have though, because as Yaz opens the door, it occurs to her that she’s sitting stark naked in her bathtub, and  _ oh god, Yaz is going to see her naked.  _ She doesn’t really have time to process that thought though, because Yaz pulls the shower curtain back and Jolie stares at her in a blind panic. To her relief though, Yaz doesn’t pass comment and has the decency to just get on with the task, holding her elbows and helping her stand then handing her a huge fluffy towel to wrap herself in. She then helps her step carefully out of the tub, giving her a reassuring smile when her stomach cramps again and she crumples a little. 

“Can I take a quick look at your shoulder?” She requests, and Jolie nods tentatively.

“Yes please. Can I put some clothes on first though?”

“Sure, I’ll just go and finish putting new sheets on the bed, yell if you need me.” Yaz gives her girlfriend’s arm a quick squeeze and kisses her on the cheek before she leaves, shutting the door quietly behind her.

Jolie dithers for her moment before remembering she has her period and is bleeding and should probably do something about that. She manages to get everything on her bottom half sorted while she can hear Yaz next door. However when she tries to tug her softest sports bra over her head her shoulder twinges angrily and she has to admit defeat.

“Yaz, I can’t get my bra on,” she calls sheepishly, instinctively hunching in on herself when she hears Yaz outside the door. She shouldn’t feel this self-conscious, this is really only one less layer of clothing further than they got last night, and she  _ was _ just significantly more naked five minutes ago. Although, she didn’t really have time to think about it that time, whereas now it’s  _ all _ she can think about. 

Yaz knocks and she lets her in, still facing away from the door and covering as much of her torso with her arms as she can. Jolie is appreciative when, like last time, she gets on with it, looping the material over her sore side before stretching it over her head and holding it out so Jolie can slip her other arm through and tug it down into place.

“Can I have a quick look at your shoulder before we put your t-shirt on?”

Jolie nods and turns slightly so the sore spot is more directly in front of Yaz, reflexively wrapping her arms around her tummy so her girlfriend doesn’t have to look at it. 

“Ouch,” she hisses when Yaz starts to inspect her shoulder, and she gets a mumbled apology.

“Well you’ve not broken the skin but you’ve got one hell of a lump, you’ve got an impressive bruise on the way,” she chuckles, gently turning Jolie around so she’s facing her. Despite the blonde’s best efforts to look comfortable with the whole situation, Yaz picks up on the waves of anxiety rolling off her and stops in her tracks.

“Babe, talk to me, what’s wrong,” she implores gently, glancing down at where her arms are wrapped around her middle.

“Feeling a bit … bloated today. Not too great about myself,” she mumbles. She could try and deflect, yes, but she also knows that Yaz is nothing but persistent, especially when other people are feeling down about something. Yaz gently takes her wrists and lowers her arms to her sides before placing her own hands on Jolie’s waist, thumbs ghosting over her pale skin.

“Everyone gets bloated on their period, babe. Don’t mean I love you any less though.”

Jolie sniffs, hard.

“I get that you feel self-conscious, but it’s alright. I love you, every single part of you. This tummy’s great, ‘cause it’s yours. Please don’t worry about what I think.” Yaz’s voice is firm but caring, and Jolie gives in with a nod, holding on to Yaz’s shoulders and kissing her lightly and then immediately shivers when the fever takes hold of her again.

“Alright, let’s get this top on and you back into bed,” Yaz orders, helping Jo slip into her pyjama top and guides her back to bed.

“I were going to take you on a great date today,” she protests while Yaz tucks her in. “We were gonna go to the aquarium and then the planetarium in the science museum. Those places make me feel calm and happy and I wanted to take you there too.”

“I think you need to stay in bed today. Maybe we could watch some documentaries instead and you can do your infodumping from here.” Yaz grins when Jolie pouts but settles into the clean sheets anyway with a contented sigh. The dark blue with the constellations, her second favourite (right behind the rainbow stripes).

“I wasn’t going to infodump,” she grumbles as Yaz sits down next to her legs, absent-mindedly rubbing her shin through the sheets.

“I know you, yeah you were,” Yaz teases, and Jolie rolls her eyes in defeat. Although, she regrets the action when it makes her head pound, and she squeezes her eyes shut.

“Alright then. Hot water bottle, painkillers and water?”

Jolie nods, giving a soft smile when Yaz kisses her on the forehead. 

She can hear her rattling around in the kitchen and opens her eyes a little, smiling when she returns. Yaz hands her the hot water bottle to tuck against her belly, and the glass of water. She also sets her washing up bowl on the floor by the bed, nodding to it with a ‘just in case’ look on her face.

“I couldn’t find any painkillers babe, did you move them?”

Jolie scrunches her face up in thought for a second, trying to remember if she had moved them.

“Oh crap, I ran out and kept forgetting to buy some more,” she admits, tucking her chin to her chest.

“Will you be alright on your own if I pop out and buy some?” Yaz asks selflessly, brushing Jolie’s hair behind her ear when it falls in her face and she splutters a little.

“Thank you. No aspirin though, very allergic. Oh, and get some chocolate, plenty of chocolate.”

Yaz shakes her head and laughs. “You’re incorrigible, you.”

“But you love me,” Jolie replies confidently.

“That, I do,” Yaz fires back, already making her way out of the door.

* * *

When Yaz gets back, Jolie takes the painkillers gratefully and persuades Yaz to get in bed with her. Yaz sort of props herself up with some cushions but she’s mostly lying down, and Jolie takes the opportunity to rest her head on Yaz’s belly, the rise and fall as she breathes having a calming effect on her previous anxieties. She feels herself getting drowsy when Yaz starts to card her fingers through her still slightly damp hair while they talk quietly.

Half an hour later, Yaz suggests grabbing her laptop and watching some documentaries, and Jolie agrees eagerly. She’s reluctant to move to let Yaz get up though, but complies when her girlfriend tells her she’ll bring the chocolate back with her too. Sitting up slowly, she’s pleased when her stomach doesn’t lurch this time, and she props herself with some pillows, briefly considering stealing some of Yaz’s but thinks better of it. 

“Did you know that apart from primates, the only other animals that menstruate are elephant shrews and two species of bats?” She says when Yaz comes back.

“What?” Yaz frowns, dumping the laptop and the chocolate on the bed and crawling back in beside Jolie. 

“Yeah. A tonne of theories why, but nobody can agree on one,” she shrugs, curling into Yaz’s side and humming in content.

“Hmm, didn’t know that. I was right by the way, we haven’t even started watching and you’re already spouting random facts,” she quips, flashing a mischievous grin.

“I wasn’t - no - yeah - okay, shut up,” Jolie grumbles, poking Yaz playfully before grabbing the laptop and locating the documentary of her choice. 

Predictably, she interjects the whole way through with random facts and titbits of information about deep sea animals and coral reefs and constellations. They’re halfway through the third documentary, when, after already having whacked Yaz four times with her over-excited gesticulating, she shivers as her temperature drops again and Yaz wraps a fluffy blanket firmly around them both, cuddling her close.

Jo quickly finds that a wave of tiredness is taking over her body, making her ache and shiver. Yaz just holds her tighter, whispering soothing words into her ear and playing with her hair until she falls asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed :)
> 
> 3 of the ways Jolie has gained a scar are based my own experiences, anyone who can guess them wins ten points 😂
> 
> Chapter title is a lyric from this song (would highly recommend a listen, I feel that it really sums up this chapter!): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qxrk1XWqfu4


	14. Home is Where My Heart Is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz is almost to the bedroom door when she hears Jolie call for her.  
> “Yaz?”  
> “Yeah?”  
> “I love you.”  
> Yaz smiles and rests her hand against the doorframe, stopping in her tracks. “I love you too, Jo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> General content warnings here, more detailed ones in the end notes if you feel you need them :)
> 
> Content warnings:  
> \- car accident  
> \- description of injuries  
> \- anxiety attacks
> 
> I'm sorry, this is so whumpy, but every story needs a dramatic event, so here is this one 🙃  
> You'll also notice I've added a final chapter count! It might change, but it's what you should roughly expect from this ~~part of the series (did somebody say series? 👀)~~ fic!  
> Quick disclaimer: I am not a medical professional, and the only time I've been in an ambulance was 6 years ago in Spain so I have very little recollection of it! I researched stuff as best as I could, but please forgive any small inaccuracies!

Despite the lack of a Yaz in her flat that morning, Jolie feels like she’s walking on clouds. It’s officially the first Saturday of the four week-long Easter break, and she couldn’t be more excited. Four whole weeks of not having to be at uni all day, four whole weeks to spend with her wonderful girlfriend. Yes, they would both still have their jobs, and university stuff to do from home, but at least they could do it  _ together. _

Jolie’s due to pick up Yaz in an hour and a half, so, pulling on her shoes and grabbing her wallet, she makes her way out the front door of her flat and down the stairs, only tripping over her own two feet slightly in her excitement. She’s halfway to the bridge when she realises she’s forgotten her phone, but then again she’s only nipping to the corner shop to grab some custard creams, and then the florist to get some flowers for Yaz. 

She’s somehow never bought flowers for Yaz before, although she supposes that the situation has never really called for it. To be honest, there’s no particular reason why she would now, but she’s going to pick Yaz up for a date and then a whole week staying with her, so bringing flowers to her door seems like the gentlemanly thing to do. Not that she’s a gentleman, but she  _ is _ planning on wearing a waistcoat when she takes Yaz out to dinner later.

By the time she’s drawn out of her thoughts, she’s over the bridge and she has reached the corner where she normally crosses. It’s a fairly quiet corner, especially early on a Saturday morning, when most people around here are still in bed, or coming home from a night out. It’s an area mostly populated by party-type students, and the various glass bottles and leftover takeaways strewn across the road are evidence enough of that. Jolie shakes her head at the mess, she had never been one for drinking, never mind clubbing until god knows what time in the morning.

A quick glance each way down the road confirms that nothing’s coming, and she steps out, humming quietly to herself and she crosses. She’s so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she doesn’t notice a small car come speeding round the corner, veering all over the road.

She only hears it when it hits her with a loud crack.

She hits the ground with a thump that knocks the wind out of her. 

She’s vaguely aware of her body skidding across the floor.

By the time her mind catches up with her, things are starting to go black around the edges.

* * *

Yaz paces up and down the family kitchen anxiously as her mother watches her from her perch on the sofa. 

“Yasmin, stop pacing, please. You’re making me dizzy.”

Yaz halts, a guilty look on her face. Biting at her nails, she settles into the spot beside Najia on the sofa, which she quickly swaps for twirling a loose curl as her mum shoots her a disapproving look. “She’ll be here soon, Yaz. You know Jolie, she’s always running late. The woman doesn’t have the best sense of time, does she?”

Yaz shakes her head, folding shaking hands over and over in her lap. “But she’s never this late. It’s almost two hours, mum. What’s gone wrong?”

Sighing at the sight of her eldest daughter so worked up, Najia wraps an arm around her shoulder, pulling her against her. She might be almost 21, but she was never too old for a hug. “Yaz, listen to me. Jolie won’t have changed her mind without saying anything, would she now? She might’ve just gotten her times mixed up a bit, text her and see where she is.”

Yaz reaches for her phone, fingers hovering over her message chain with Jolie as she tries to compose an appropriate message. She’s interrupted though when her screen lights up with an unknown but local number and she frowns in confusion before accepting the call and pressing the device to her ear.

* * *

When Jolie tentatively cracks her eyes open again, the buzzing in her head is so loud she can barely think. Nor can she work out where she is. She’s lying on her side, that much she can work out. And she’s outside, on a road? Why is she lying in the middle of the road? It’s loud, a lot of people shouting. She tries to push herself up so she can figure out better where she is, but then there’s a pressure on her shoulder and she’s against the ground again. Something is digging uncomfortably, no painfully, into her other shoulder, and the push against the ground aggravates it. Actually, it alerts her to everything, and she groans as waves of pain wash over her, rendering her breathless. 

Her vision is starting to darken a little around the edges again, and then a face pops into her eyeline and she tries really hard to concentrate on it. There’s a blur of brown hair scraped back into a bun, and concerned eyes. Maybe a phone is held to the person’s ear.

“You need to lie still, I’m calling for an ambulance.” The strong cockney accent surprises Jolie, and she frowns. You don’t hear many accents like that in Sheffield. She goes to close her eyes again, the bright light is hurting her head, but a gentle tap against her cheek stops her.

“Try and stay awake, at least until the paramedics get here,” the woman says, maintaining eye contact. “Yes, ambulance please.”

“Wha - what happened?” She notices that her words feel too big for her mouth, messy and jumbled and sticky.

“You’ve been hit by a car. Sorry,” she grimaces.

**_A car? She was hit by a car?_ **

She can vaguely hear the operator on the other end of the line, and just concentrates on keeping her eyes open while the woman kneeling beside her speaks. 

_ “Hello, Yorkshire Ambulance, what is your emergency?” _

“Hi. DC Jenny Flint, I’m with a woman who’s been hit by a car.”

**_This person is a police officer? Who called the police?_ **

_ “Okay, can you tell me your location so I can get an ambulance out to you?” _

“Yes, we’re on the south side of Lady’s Bridge in Sheffield, just on the corner beside a Wilko’s.”

_ “Alright...I’ve got that for you. I’ve dispatched an ambulance, it should be with you in approximately ten minutes. Now, is the woman conscious?” _

“Yes.”

_ “Okay, that’s good. We need to keep her awake. Can you put the phone on speaker for me?” _

The woman sitting next to her fumbles with her phone for a second before placing it down on the road where Jolie’s face is pressed into the tarmac.

_ “Hi there, my name is Emily, I’m an ambulance dispatcher for Yorkshire Ambulance. Can you tell me your name? _

“Jolie,” she croaks out, and the woman kneeling next to her has to repeat it for the operator to be able to hear.

_ “Okay Jolie. How old are you?” _

“Erm … ow … 22,” she winces when she tries to shift, whatever is embedded in her shoulder tearing her skin further, and then again when the deep breath pulls at her ribcage.

_ “Okay Jolie, you’re doing really well. You need to stay really still though. Now, can you tell me where you have any pain, please?” _

Jolie concentrates really hard.

“My leg really hurts. A lot.” She grimaces when she thinks about it, and a new wave of pain washes over her.

_ “Okay, Jenny, are you able to see any damage?” _

After that everything sort of becomes a blur. She’s vaguely aware of the terror crushing her chest as Jenny describes her visible injuries to the dispatcher. When the paramedics arrive and snap an oxygen mask to her face, things unfortunately become a little clearer as they move and examine her. Then suddenly she’s in the back of an ambulance, blackness taking over her mind.

* * *

_ Hello, is this Yasmin Khan? _

“Erm, yes, that’s me. Speaking?

_ I’m Doctor Martha Jones, at Weston Park Accident and Emergency. There’s been an incident with Jolene Smith. She doesn’t have a designated emergency contact, but she has informed us that you would be the most appropriate person to call. _

Yaz lets out a shaky breath and she feels her heart jump into her throat and her stomach drop down to her feet. “Erm yes. I’m her, I’m her girlfriend. What kind of incident?”

_ “There was a road collision, a car hit her while she was crossing the road. She's sustained a variety of injuries and we’ll need to keep her here for several days. We can explain better when you get here, if you can.” _

“Oh my god...erm I’ll be there as soon as I can”

_ “Okay, Miss Khan. Ask for me when you get here, and I will fill you in and you can see her. She’s in safe hands here.” _

Hanging up the phone, Yaz stares at the blank screen held in her trembling hands in disbelief. Najia looks at her in concern, of course having heard Yaz’s end of the conversation. “Beti, what happened?”

Yaz turned to face her mum, eyes glistening and upper lip trembling. “Jolie was -erm- she was hit by a car. She’s in the hospital, she was asking for me.” The last sentence sends Yaz into sobs that shake her whole body. Najia can do nothing but pull her close, rocking her gently like a baby. 

“Do you want me to drive you? I don’t think it would be safe for you to drive yourself.”

Yaz nods in silent agreement, pulling herself to a shaky standing position.

* * *

Yaz is silent the whole ride to the hospital, staring straight ahead and gripping the door handle until her knuckles are white. Upon pulling into the car park outside the A&E department though, she seems rooted to the spot. 

“Would you like me to walk you in?”

Yaz nods again, undoing her seatbelt clumsily before climbing out of the car. The walk into the A&E department seems endlessly long, but they finally make it through the double doors. Najia asks at the front desk for Jolie, just as a doctor appears seemingly out of thin air. “Miss Khan?” she asks, offering a hand to shake which Yaz takes after a moment of confusion.

“Doctor Jones, I spoke to you on the phone earlier. Would you like to come with me and I can fill you in, and then I’ll take you to see her.”

Yaz nods and follows the doctor down a hallway as she sets off at a brisk pace, Najia hurrying behind them. Doctor Jones stops outside a seemingly insignificant door, opening it and stepping aside to let Yaz enter first. It’s a small room with a sofa, a couple of armchairs and a desk with a computer, and Yaz sees that the sign on the door reads ‘consultation room 5’.

“Can my mum come in?” Yaz asks, gesturing to where Najia is standing hovering in the doorway, unsure.

“I’m afraid not. I can’t share any information with anyone that Jolene hasn’t asked for specifically, patient confidentiality,” Martha explains, throwing an apologetic smile in Yaz’s direction. She understands, but she doesn’t like it all the same.

“There’s a waiting room just at the end of that corridor, turn left and you’ll find it. You’re welcome to wait there if you’re staying. Can I take your name though, just in case we need it.”

“Yes, Najia Khan.” She pulls her daughter into a quick hug. “I’ll be right down there if you need me love. She’s going to be fine, okay?” she reassures, looking into her eyes and giving her shoulders a firm squeeze before turning and walking off down the corridor.

Yaz steps into the room and elects the chair nearest the door, perching on the edge of it and bouncing her leg in a fashion that mirrors her girlfriend’s perfectly. Martha is sitting opposite her at the computer and smiles kindly, giving Yaz a moment to gather herself.

“Do you have any specific questions, or would you just like me to explain everything?”

Yaz mulls the thought over for a moment. She really wishes she had questions, she wishes her mum or Jolie were here to ask the sensible questions, but they’re not, and her brain is too scrambled for her to try and think of any herself. “Just explain everything please,” she eventually concludes.

Martha nods and clicks around the computer a bit, presumably pulling up the appropriate information. “Okay. So from what we understand so far, she was hit by an out-of-control driver. She’ll have to talk to the police and they’ll be able to tell you more about exactly what happened if you want.”

She pauses to check on Yaz, who is gripping the edge of her chair but nods for her to continue anyway.

“In terms of more minor injuries, she has significant bone bruises to her ribs and her left wrist. There was also a large amount of grazing to her left arm, and a laceration caused by a piece of broken glass on the same shoulder which has required stitches. Also a minor concussion.”

Martha pauses again, and Yaz swallows thickly. “That’s a lot of things,” she murmurs, anxiety overwhelming her body and squeezing her chest as the information sinks into her brain.

Martha nods with a reassuring smile. “I know, but none of them are life-threatening and we expect her to make a full recovery.”

Yaz nods slightly, her brain whirring. “You said on the phone she’ll need to stay here for several days, why?”

“Well, we need to monitor her to make sure there aren’t any effects of the concussion that could have been missed during initial testing. However, the most amount of damage was to her right leg. She has a clean break to the tibia, which is the shin bone. She’s also completely torn her MCL and her ACL, which are ligaments in the knee, and she’ll probably need surgery to repair that, although we won’t be considering that until the break is healed. Usually surgery isn’t required for this type of injury, but given that two have been completely torn and the nature of the accident, it’s the course of action we would recommend. We can discuss those options with her though when she’s a little more with us. Any questions?”

Yaz simply stares at the doctor, her mind turning over and over. She has so many questions but they’re all buzzing around inside her head and she can’t make head nor tail of them. There is one clear question on her mind though.

“Can I see her?”

The doctor smiles kindly and locks the computer, moving to stand. “Of course you can, I’ll walk you there now.”

Yaz stands up and follows her out the room at a brisk pace, struggling to keep up a little. She supposes that doctors are used to hurrying everywhere though. It’s only a short walk, but they take so many turns as they move deeper into the hospital that Yaz completely loses track of where they are. 

“She woke up about an hour ago, and she’s on some pretty heavy painkillers so she might be a bit out of it. Just thought I should warn you about that,” Martha smiles, and Yaz can’t help but laugh a little. Her girlfriend tends to be a bit loopy under normal circumstances, goodness knows what she’s going to be like now.

Eventually they reach a side room with four beds in it; one is empty, two have the curtains drawn, and the last one is occupied by Jolie looking very much worse for wear. She’s scarily pale propped up in the hospital bed, an IV attached to her right arm providing fluids. Her left arm is bandaged and in a sling, while her right leg is completely hidden by a thick white plaster cast that stretches all the way from her toes to her hip. However, upon seeing Yaz enter the room, her face changes from listless and scared to pure relief.

Yaz all-but throws herself at her, tenderly kissing her forehead and grasping her right hand gently, rubbing her thumb over her knuckles. 

“Yaz?” Jolie’s voice comes out a little hoarse and teary, and it cracks Yaz’s heart straight into two.

“I’m here babe, I’m here,” she soothes through her stubborn tears, desperately fighting the urge to gather her girlfriend into her arms and never let her go.

“Yaz, why’re you cryin’?” Jolie’s voice is a little slurred, Yaz concludes it must be a mix of the painkillers and the exhaustion but it hurts all the same.

“It’s quite hard not to cry right now, Jo,” she laughs through a steady stream of salty tears.

Jolie nods sleepily, staring intently at Yaz through drooping eyes. “Don’t leave me, please?”

Yaz nods back at her girlfriend reassuringly, before turning back to look back at Doctor Jones who is still hovering at the edge of the curtain. Yaz realises she doesn’t actually know how long she’s allowed to stay.

“You can stay with her as long as you’re able to today. We’ll give you open visiting during the day given the circumstances. I’m afraid you’ll have to leave overnight though.” Doctor Jones answers the unasked question that’s lingering in the air.

“See babe, I can stay with you all day.” Yaz keeps her voice quiet but reassuring, smoothing Jo’s tangled, wavy hair out of her face. She notes that her fine baby hairs are sticking to her forehead, slightly damp. By the cool, limp hand still in her grasp, she highly doubts that it’s because she’s been sweating, and concludes that someone must have washed her face, which also probably means it was dirty in the first place. She notices a slight graze and a forming bruised bump on the left side of her temple, which must be where she hit her head when she fell. Her hair is knotted and mucky too, and for some reason Yaz just wants to clean it for her and make her look as presentable as she can in her current state. She’s pulled out of her thoughts though by a weak squeeze of her hand and Jolie’s small voice.

“Yaz, how did y’get ‘ere?”

She’s not sure why her girlfriend is asking that particular question, why would she need to know other than worrying about her getting home okay. But the distraught look on Jolie’s face convinces her to answer without questioning.

“Mum drove me.”

Her girlfriend’s face lights up at the statement, and Yaz smiles right back. “Yaz’s mum’s here? Can I see’er?” Yaz turns to look expectantly at the doctor, and she nods, smiling. 

“Yeah, you can. The waiting room I sent her too is just around the corner from here, I can bring her over for you?”

Jolie nods enthusiastically, only wincing slightly at the headache that it incurs. Doctor Jones nods and walks briskly out of the room, and Yaz turns to look at her girlfriend who is staring vacantly at the wall again. She squeezes her hand gently in reassurance but stares at the floor herself. Now they’re momentarily alone, she’s not quite sure what to say. What is she even supposed to do in this situation? It’s not like she can give Jolie a hug, and she can’t promise everything will be okay because she simply doesn’t know. 

Thankfully, her spiralling thoughts are interrupted by Najia hurrying into the room, not hesitating to cup Jolie’s face and kiss her forehead, much to both younger women’s surprise.

“You’re s’bad as her,” Jolie laughs, indicating Yaz with a slight tilt of the head.

“Technically it’s the other way around, love,” Najia smiles, pulling up an extra chair and sitting down next to her daughter.

Jolie looks between them in confusion, her brow furrowing. 

“Nevermind, babe. We’re both here for you now. Right, mum?”

“Of course,” Najia confirms. “You’re one of the family, so we’re staying with you.”

Yaz’s eyes widen in surprise at her mum’s statement. She very much considered Jolie a part of her family, they’re basically joined at the hip at this point, but she didn’t know her mum felt the same. True, both her parents were pleasant and welcoming whenever Jolie came to their flat, but she supposed it was out of politeness and courtesy. She was very aware that both her parents had been extremely apprehensive about her dating anyone else, but obviously Jolie had convinced them that she was the right person for their daughter.

Apparently Jolie was taken aback by the statement too, because the heart rate monitor she’s attached to momentarily speeds up, and when Yaz looks at her, her face has crumpled and there are a few stray tears running down her cheeks.

“M’one of your family?” she whispers, voice hoarse and eyes flicking between Yaz and Najia.

“Of course you are!” Najia affirms, as Yaz reaches up to gently wipe the tears away from her girlfriend’s cheeks. She still looks confused and emotional though, so Yaz squeezes her hand again to ground her back to their conversation.

“We can talk properly later, when you’re more with us, okay babe?”

Jolie nods and settles back against her pillows with a contented sigh and smiling slightly, her eyes fluttering close with the fatigue. 

“Can you fill me in?” Najia asks in a low voice, and Yaz nods, turning to look towards her mum more. She gives Najia the briefest version she can; she does need to know what’s going on, but it’s really Jolie’s decision to share the information. Besides, it’s pretty obvious just by looking at her where she’s hurt, so the explanation doesn’t need to be overly detailed.

When she’s finished, Najia looks at her and takes a deep breath.

“Are you doing alright, Yaz?” is her first question.

“I don’t think it’s quite hit me yet,” she admits, glancing back towards Jolie, who is now sleeping peacefully, and, as ever, snoring very quietly.

“Well, you know I’m here for the both of you,” Najia confirms, giving her daughter’s knee a squeeze before standing up. “I’ll go and get us some drinks and a snack, and let your dad and sister know where we are, okay?”

Yaz nods gratefully, watching her mum leave and then looking back at Jolie lovingly.

* * *

It’s three days later that Dr Jones tells a very relieved Jolie that she’s allowed to go home. The cast on her leg has been replaced with one that ends just below her knee, and is bright yellow, at her request. She’s not been given the clear for crutches yet though, given the injuries to her left arm, and the weight of the cast risking further injury to her knee. Yaz is given the honour of signing the cast first, and after some consideration, settles for a doodle of moons and stars, a roller skate, and her name in her tidy print. It earns a smile from Jolie, and a gentle kiss on the cheek. 

After the doctor brings the discharge papers through, Jolie tries to protest once again at Yaz’s insistence on spending at least the next eight weeks at her flat. To be completely honest, Yaz is apprehensive too, it’s a lot of time and responsibility to commit to, but she’d agreed to it in a heartbeat; it wasn’t like Jolie really had anyone else who could realistically spend that much time with her, never mind take care of her while she was basically immobile.

The last three days had been intense; Yaz had had to learn a lot of stuff, very fast. Everything from simple actions such as changing the dressings on her shoulder and arm, to the more complicated but vital process of helping her girlfriend transfer from the bulky, hospital-issued wheelchair to various places around her home. They had learned together the physiotherapy exercises they were to do at home to prepare Jo’s knee for surgery in six weeks time, as well as set appointments for sessions at the hospital. It was exhausting, but finally Yaz is as ready as she can be to take her girlfriend home.

“I’m completely capable of looking after myself!” the woman in question argues, as she tries and fails to figure out the best way to wear her favourite rainbow-emblazoned hoodie while her left arm is still in a sling.

Yaz laughs at the poor timing of the comment as she moves forward to help the disgruntled looking blonde. “Babe, the only thing you are right now is stubborn. And kinda cute. Admit it, there’s no way you’d get out of this hospital on your own, never mind into your flat. Also, it’s literally doctor’s orders.”

Her girlfriend huffs in admittance. “Okay, but you’d better not be watching me like a hawk.”

“No watching you like any kind of bird, babe. I promise.” Yaz replies, passing back her girlfriend’s glasses now that her hoodie is over her head. “Now, let me help you into this wheelchair so we can get to my dad’s car. He’s gonna help me get you into your flat, and then he’s off.”

Jolie accepts her girlfriend’s help as Yaz tucks her arms around her torso, mindful of the still-fresh bruising around her ribs. She helps her spin around on her good leg before settling her down, passing her the backpack to rest on her lap. 

After a few wrong turns, they make it out of the hospital and Jolie yells “Ahh, the outside world, at last!” while throwing her good arm dramatically into the air, wincing when it pulls at her tender ribs. They’re still sore, but thankfully less so than they had been when Yaz had first seen her. 

“You’re so dramatic. It’s only been four days, babe” Yaz counters, rolling her eyes as she scans the car park for her dad’s car. Spotting it, she waves him over, and a minute or so later he pulls up beside them. He gets out and rounds the corner, opening the back door for them. “Ahh, if it isn’t my daughter and her girlfriend, our very own Calamity Jane!”

“Nice to see you too, Yaz’s dad,” Jolie retorts, noting Yaz’s laugh at what has become a normal kind of conversation for her girlfriend and her dad. He reaches out for the bag and places it in the boot. “I’ve got a cushion on the back seat there for you, so you can put your leg up, and one for your back against the door. Will that be okay?”

“Thanks, Yaz’s dad. That should be more than okay,” Jolie replies warmly, then looks up at Yaz. “Right, let’s do this.”

They use the same method to get Jolie into the car as they did to get her into the wheelchair, but this time she’s forced to bend forward to avoid hitting her head against the edge of the car, and she drops down into the seat with a gasp of pain. Yaz crouches down as Jolie squeezes her eyes shut. 

“Ribs?”

Jolie can only nod, and she reaches forward with her good arm, searching for Yaz’s hand. Yaz takes it and squeezes gently. “It’s okay, I’m here. Take your time, there’s no rush. Slow breaths.”

“Okay, I think I’m good now,” Jolie breathes shakily a few moments later. 

Yaz nods, squeezing her hand again. “Okay. Do you want me to sit in the back with you, or up front?”

“Back, please,” Jolie replies, wincing slightly as she starts to shuffle backwards across the seat until she’s flush with the opposite door, reaching behind her gingerly to adjust the cushion. Yaz slips in next to a yellow foot, lifting it up to rest on her lap and wedging the extra cushion under her knee for support.

The second Hakim starts the car, Yaz picks up on Jolie’s quickening breaths and tense look on her face. Reaching out for her hand, Yaz’s face is filled with concern. “You okay, babe?”

Jolie shakes her head. “It’s, it's the noise of the car,” she whispers, her breaths quickening. 

“Dad, can you park for a minute please?” Yaz requests, squeezing Jolie’s hand and running her thumb across the back of it. “Jo, can you focus on my hand for me? That’s it, you’re doing really well. Okay, now I’m going to count for you, inhale for 4 counts, exhale for 7.”

They work through the exercise for a couple of minutes, until Jolie is calm again. “Is it bringing the memories back?”

Jolie nods, her bottom lip quivering. 

“Well, we do need to drive you home. But, I’m right here for you. And, what if, my dad described the whole drive for you, so you know what’s coming?”

Jolie nods again, her face relaxing slightly. “Yeah, just … don’t let go of my hand, please?”

“Of course I won’t.”

Both women are grateful to Hakim for describing the whole journey in detail to them, and before Jolie realises, they’ve pulled up as close to her flat as they can get. 

“Hey! You did it! Now, how’s about we get you inside for a cuppa?”

Jolie nods, looking exhausted but with a small smile dancing across her lips. 

Upstairs, Yaz helps her girlfriend move from the wheelchair and settles her gently onto her sofa, propping her up with enough cushions to build a fort. Hakim brings their things up, but sensing that they could do with some alone time and some rest, bids his goodbyes and leaves them to it.

They sit in awkward silence for a moment, until Jolie’s stomach rumbles loudly, and they both huff in laughter.

“Hungry?” Yaz asks, and she’s given an eager nod in response. To be fair, she’s pretty hungry too, she’s mostly been surviving off cereal bars and quick hospital cafeteria food the last four days, and poor Jolie has been stuck with hospital issued food that she was mostly too anxious and uncomfortable to eat. Yaz hadn’t mentioned it, but she had definitely noticed how tense and uncomfortable her girlfriend had been during her stay in hospital, even after the initial shock of the accident had worn off. She supposed that having so many people poke and prod at her was overwhelming with how touch-adverse she generally is, and when she had had her cast redone, she had held Yaz’s hand so tightly it had gone numb. Yaz casts her mind back to her own hospital stay just over a year ago, and she can empathise with how her girlfriend had been feeling, although not fully.

Pulling herself out of wandering thoughts, she stands up from her perch at Jo’s feet, giving her good shin a quick rub through her joggers and making her way to the kitchen. 

“Fried egg sandwich?” Yaz asks, and Jolie grins broadly.

“You know me too well, Yasmin Khan,” she quips, tension already evaporating and letting her shoulders drop.

“I’m your girlfriend, it’s basically the job description,” she calls back from the kitchen, pulling out the necessary ingredients. Her mum had insisted on going shopping for them before they came back, so they have the basics, aka all the necessary ingredients for two fried egg sandwiches.

Setting to work, Yaz chats to Jolie the whole time, very mindful of the fact that she cannot see her from where she’s settled on the sofa. She finishes Jolie’s sandwich first, adding a generous helping of ketchup and breaking the runny yolk for her before cutting the sandwich for her; she knows she’ll make a huge mess if she breaks the yolk herself.

Finishing her own sandwich, she plates both and carries them through to the living room, settling down at the opposite end of the sofa again, next to Jolie’s feet. She’d much prefer to be sitting next to her, but her leg is better off being up on the sofa, and the sofa is definitely not deep enough for them both to sit comfortably, so by her feet she stays. 

“Clara texted me this morning, she was wondering if you fancied a visitor tomorrow?” Yaz asks casually, taking a large bite of her sandwich. It doesn’t escape her attention that Jolie visibly tenses and the suggestion. As far as Yaz is aware, she’s still the only proper visitor her girlfriend has had, and so inviting someone into her space, let alone when she’s feeling vulnerable, might be a bit much. On the other hand, Yaz was still feeling anxious about the pair of them very suddenly being thrown together with little outside company for the best part of the next two months, and so inviting someone into their now-shared space early on would surely open up more opportunities further down the line, as an when they needed an intervention of sorts. But if anyone was going to come and spend time with them, Clara seemed like their best first option. She had seen and looked after Yaz at her worst, so she absolutely wouldn’t be fazed.

“It’s totally up to you. She won’t care if we just chill and watch a movie. And I can absolutely guarantee she’ll be bringing us baked goods.” At the last comment, Jolie’s eyes light up, and Yaz laughs quietly to herself; her girlfriend can always be tempted by the promise of something sugary.

“Would it be morning or afternoon?” Jolie asks, studying her sandwich intensely.

“Probably afternoon, she prefers to be at the café in the mornings to get stuff started.”

Jolie shrugs, immediately grimacing as she forgets her injured shoulder. “Can we see how I feel in the morning?” she asks shyly.

“‘Course we can, Clara won’t mind either way,” Yaz reassures, squeezing Jo’s good knee.

Jolie smiles slightly before taking another generous bite of her sandwich. Unfortunately, her good mood dissipates quickly when runny, yellow egg yolk leaks out the side of her sandwich, splattering all over the splint on her left wrist. She drops the sandwich back onto her plate, groaning in annoyance and leaning against the back of the sofa.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, we’ve got a spare,” Yaz reassures, setting her own plate down on the floor and jumping up. She easily finds the spare in the outside pocket of her backpack, she’s glad she’d had the foresight to put it in an easily accessible place, having predicted her girlfriend’s clumsy nature.

Grabbing an extra pillow, she moves Jolie’s plate out the way and replaces it with the cushion, which Jolie then rests her wrist on. When Yaz starts to gently peel away the velcro straps and slide it out from under her wrist, Jolie looks anywhere but, and Yaz can see why. The joint is still slightly swollen, a mottled mess of blacks, blues and greens. It’s horrible to look at honestly, Yaz doesn’t blame Jolie for not wanting to look.

A flurry of apologies falls from her lips when she lifts her wrist to slide the spare splint under and Jolie hisses through her teeth at the touch against the tender skin. Jo can’t help but let out a small cry when Yaz tightens the straps and Yaz works as fast as she can, pressing a kiss to Jolie’s forehead when she’s done.

“Sorry,” she whispers, squeezing her good hand while Jo breathes through the last dregs of pain.

“S’alright. Had t’be done,” she murmurs, resting her head against the sofa again. 

“Tired, babe?” Yaz smiles, rubbing her thumb across her knuckles. 

Jolie hums in agreement, her eyes fluttering closed.

“Take a nap, I’ll go and unpack and our stuff,” Yaz offers, giving her girlfriend’s hand a last firm squeeze before standing up and grabbing the two backpacks. Truthfully, it’s mostly Jolie’s stuff, she’d come by last night with her mum to drop off the food and her own stuff. She could have done it on her own, but understandably her mum was anxious to see where her daughter was going to be living for the best part of next two months.

Yaz is almost to the bedroom door when she hears Jolie call for her.

“Yaz?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

Yaz smiles and rests her hand against the doorframe, stopping in her tracks. “I love you too, Jo.”

* * *

Yaz can’t help but be on high alert when they settle into bed that evening, her sleep light and restless as she subconsciously listens out for anything wrong with the woman beside her. So when a soft whimper comes from beside her in the early hours, she wakes instantly.

It takes her a moment for her eyes to adjust to the low light, but when they do she sees that her ever-restless girlfriend has managed to roll herself onto her side in her sleep, despite being surrounded by every cushion she owns. Her face is screwed up in pain and Yaz can’t tell if she’s awake or not.

“Jo, babe, can you hear me?” A slight nod confirms her suspicions, and she sits up properly so she can help her.

“You don’t need to talk to me, but I’m going to explain to you what I’m going to do. Just shake your head if you want me to stop, okay?” She keeps her voice low and steady and calm, her psychology brain kicking in over the immediate need to help her girlfriend.

The blonde gives a small nod again, and Yaz slowly reaches her hands out. “I need to roll you onto your back, you’re lying on your bad arm which can’t be good, and you’re twisting your ribs. I’m going to push as gently as I can on your shoulder and your hip, I’ll be quick, okay?” She waits a moment to let her words sink in, and then places her hands and pushes as gently yet firmly as she can. She cringes when Jolie cries out in pain, her face screwing up even further.

“I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry. I just need to put the cushions back and then I’ll be all done, I promise.” Yaz swallows her own emotion when Jolie opens her eyes and looks up at her, her eyes shining and red. Yaz wedges a pillow back under her casted leg, before straightening her arm out and laying it gently at her side, relieved when a quick inspection of her shoulder reveals that none of the stitches have come loose. “There we go, all done,” she whispers, leaning down and kissing her girlfriend’s forehead tenderly, cupping her cheek and lightly stroking her thumb over the soft skin under her eye.

“Yaz, it hurts,” she whimpers, her whole body shaking lightly and her face deathly pale. 

“I’ll go grab the pain meds, stay as still as you can for me,” Yaz replies, getting up from the bed and heading to the kitchen, narrating her actions to her girlfriend back in the bedroom. The hospital had advised that they just use ibuprofen for now, but they had given them a few doses of the stronger ones for any emergency situations. Yaz concludes that this definitely counts as one. As well as grabbing the pain medication and a glass of water, she roots around in the freezer, coming up with a bag of frozen sweetcorn. She wraps it in a rainbow checkered tea towel, gathering her supplies up and padding back into the bedroom. 

Jolie is still breathing heavily when she returns, shivering, but her face isn’t screwed up any more, her eyes watching Yaz as she makes her way back to the side of the bed. “You’re going to need to sit up a bit to take these, don’t want you to choke on the water,” she explains as she slides a hand behind Jolie’s back, giving her a gentle push as she grunts with the effort of pushing her shaking body up with one arm, and then keeping it there for support as she gulps the water with the painkillers. “There you go, well done,” she murmurs as she helps her return to lying flat on her back.

She sets the glass of water on the bedside table, feeling Jolie’s hand sneak into hers and she grips it tight. “You’re really shaky, are you cold or is it anxiety shakes?”

“M’not cold. Really warm,” she murmurs. 

Yaz nods, reaching for the bag of sweetcorn and bringing it up into her eyeline. “Got a makeshift ice pack, it should help your ribs a bit, do you want to use it?”

Jo nods, and Yaz gently lifts up her pyjama top and places it on the worst of the bruising, which is now an angry black and blue, her other hand still rubbing soothing motions into her girlfriend’s. She’s dropping off herself, despite her uncomfortable position on the floor and is only brought back to reality by Jolie announcing drowsily that she’s cold now.

Yaz nods, removing the ice pack and bringing her pyjama top back down to cover her now goosebumpy torso.

The sweet corn is still basically frozen, they’d barely used it, so she drops it back into the freezer and hurries back to the bedroom, anxious to leave Jolie on her own.

Her eyes are closed when she gets back but her breathing pattern reveals that she’s definitely still awake. Yaz climbs into bed carefully so as not to jostle her too much, pulling the duvet up over them both. As much as she longs to hug her and hold her until she falls asleep, Yaz knows she can’t; it would only hurt her. 

Thankfully though, Jolie sleeps on the left, meaning her good arm is next to Yaz, who settles for taking her hand again and squeezing it tightly. Jo squeezes back, her breathing slowing as she falls into slumber, definitely helped along by the painkillers. Yaz finds herself waiting until she’s sure Jo is asleep to drop off herself, still on high alert for any signs of discomfort from the woman beside her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More detailed content warning:  
> In this chapter, Jolie is hit by a car while crossing the road. We see this from both her point of view and Yaz's, as well as in the hospital and when Yaz takes her home. If you want a summary without having to read the chapter, please feel free to message me over on tumblr @emmyphant :)
> 
> Thank you for reading, this chapter was so hard to write! But, I promise she's going to be okay in the end, and if you're cautious about this event completely taking over the story, it won't! Of course it's still going to be present and talked about, because these things don't just magically disappear, but it's not going to become Jolie's defining characteristic.
> 
> Chapter title source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cImqyjHeH_o


	15. We Were Bound to be Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz thinks maybe they should be having this conversation at a more significant moment, in a better place. But really, their friendship and the support they gave each other had become so normal, that sitting with her best friend and her girlfriend (despite one of them being asleep) and watching a movie couldn’t be a more appropriate setting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took a little longer to get out! I hope the fluff makes up for last chapter.
> 
> Still a few content warnings though:  
> CW: Discussions of anxiety and panic attacks  
> CW: Hospitals

The next morning, Yaz is not at all surprised when she wakes well before Jolie. She takes the time to simply watch the blonde sleep, savouring the way the first hints of light filtering through the curtains fall across her face and (albeit messy) hair, almost making it glow golden. Her face is free of any tension and worry, and she’s snoring lightly as usual. It’s the most calm and peaceful she’s been in days and it makes Yaz smile, despite the fact she has to be asleep to be like that.

Reaching forward to brush the stray blonde hairs away from her face, Yaz hesitates when Jolie sighs and scrunches her face up. Thankfully she doesn’t wake up, she could really do with the extra sleep. She’s not far from it though, so as quietly as she can Yaz slips from the room, retrieving her prayer mat from beside the bed before heading to the bathroom to start her day.

Half an hour later, she hears Jolie cough from the bedroom and she plates up the last of their breakfast with a smile. It’s just toast and cereal, she’ll let Jo choose and she’ll have the other. Carrying the plates into the bedroom, she sets them down on her bedside table and climbs back into bed next to Jolie. She’s almost awake, so Yaz brushes the rest of the hair out of her face and strokes her cheek until her eyes slowly open. 

“Good morning gorgeous,” Yaz whispers, cupping Jolie’s face.

“Were y’watching me sleep,” she mumbles, rubbing her eyes with her good hand and smiling lazily at Yaz.

“Maybe a little bit,” she admits. “Well, I did for a while, but then I got up to pray and make breakfast. Missed having you to sleep next to.” Her voice is still slightly rough from little use that morning and a disturbed night.

“Hmm, missed you too. And my bed,” she adds, and Yaz laughs quietly, warm breath ghosting over her face as Jolie yawns.

“Eww, bed breath,” she complains, and Jolie scrunches her face up in response.

“You’re the one who made me eggs. And you try brushing your teeth with the wrong hand.” Her voice is low and grumbly, but the playful glint in her eyes shows that there’s nothing past a little sleep-grumpiness behind her words.

“Anyway, I’ve made you breakfast in bed. Toast or cereal?”

Jolie narrows her eyes at Yaz, considering her options.

“What does the toast have on it?”

“Jam. A lot of jam.”

“Then toast please,” she decides, pushing herself up with one arm and a gentle hand on her back from Yaz. Yaz passes the plate of toast over and then takes the cereal for herself. They eat quietly, just enjoying each other’s presence until Yaz looks at Jolie, and bursts out laughing.

“What,” Jolie scowls, pushing the last of her toast past her lips.

“You’ve got jam on your nose,” she replies, continuing to giggle.

“Yaz! S’not funny!” she whines playfully, grinning nonetheless as she playfully shoves Yaz’s shoulder.

Continuing to giggle, Yaz swipes the jam away with her thumb and then, unsure what to do with it, sticks it in her own mouth and scrapes it off with her teeth. Jolie gulps audibly as her eyes flick to Yaz’s lips, staring blatantly. Yaz coughs awkwardly, staring at her lap.

Unsurprisingly, Jolie picks up on her uneasiness quickly.

“You okay, Yaz?” she asks, resting her hand on Yaz’s knee.

Yaz continues to stare at her lap, debating whether or not to tell Jo what she's thinking and feeling. But then again, she’s her girlfriend and she trusts her completely. “I want to kiss you but I don’t want to hurt you,” she blurts out, burying her face in her hands in embarrassment.

“Yaz, c’mere,” Jolie says gently, setting her empty plate down next to her on the sheets.

Yaz stays stubbornly still.

“Babe, you need a hug, and it’s a lot easier for you to shuffle across this bed than me.”

She gives in and shuffles tentatively over, settling under Jolie’s outstretched arm but refusing to lean into her completely.

“Yaz, three quarters of this side of me is perfectly unharmed, you can have a proper cuddle,” she insists, pulling Yaz into her until she’s flush against her side.

“Talk to me, babe,” she encourages. “What’s got you so upset about this, my face is fine.”

Yaz snorts quietly into her chest.

“There was a better way to phrase that, but you get what I mean. But please, talk to me.”

“I’m upset because - because I finally felt we were getting to the point where we could be more … intimate … with each other, and now that’s kinda been put on hold,” Yaz admits, turning her head to look at Jolie, who looks back down at her, giving herself several chins in the process.

“Okay,” she says slowly, frowning in thought. Yaz knows that figuring out emotions is not her strong point, but she’s trying nonetheless, and that, Yaz is very grateful for.

“Are you worried it’s going to knock your confidence? Or are you frustrated because we’ve had to put that stuff on hold for a bit,” she questions, giving Yaz’s shoulders a squeeze.

Yaz sighs, mulling over her feelings. “I think a bit of both.” She pauses, considering if she should admit the rest of her feelings. Jolie’s thumb rubbing comfortingly against the bare skin on her shoulder convinces her to open up. “I’m scared you’re going to lose interest in me.” Her admission is so quiet, her girlfriend almost doesn’t hear her.

Jolie sighs heavily and pulls Yaz closer. If she could move her other arm, she would use it to tilt Yaz’s chin towards her.

“Yaz, please, you don’t need to prove yourself. I know it sucks right now, but we can try that stuff when I’m better and we’re both comfortable with it. For now, all I want is you to be here, with me. You’ve basically just moved in at the drop of a hat to look after me. That shows you care, and that’s all that matters to me.”

Yaz is crying when Jolie finishes her mini speech, trying to hide it without success by burying her face in Jolie’s shoulder.

“When did you get so sentimental and wise,” she mumbles, raising her head to actually look at her girlfriend.

“Done a lot of crying these past few days. And thinking.”

“Hmm. Well, if you need to talk to me, m’right here,” Yaz replies, giving Jolie a kiss on the curve of her jaw before sitting up properly.

“Anyway, how are you feeling about Clara coming over this afternoon?” 

Jolie narrows her eyes at Yaz changing the subject so quickly, but lets it slide. “I think that would be nice,” she smiles, trying to hide her nerves. Yes, she’s not entirely sure about it, but she knows that Yaz wants Clara to visit, and she should probably have a proper visitor (other than Yaz) too.

“Cool. I’ll text her, then we can get you up and ready for the day.”

“Wait.” Jolie catches her hand and pulls her back. “Let me kiss you first.”

Yaz obliges happily and lets her girlfriend kiss her sweetly.

“Good job I love you, because that bed breath is getting worse,” Yaz giggles, pulling back.

“Should probably clean my teeth, shouldn’t I?”

“Yep.”

* * *

Yaz has left Jolie to her own devices in the living room, flicking through a book. She retreats to the bedroom to give her mum a call and let her know how they’re getting on.

_ “Hiya love, how was your night?” _

Yaz smiles when her mum’s voice comes down the phone.

“Erm, not the best, but not the worst,” she replies truthfully, swallowing a yawn. “We had a bit of a problem about two this morning.”

_ “Do you want to talk about it?” _

“God knows how, but she managed to roll onto her side, and I had to push her back onto her back. It was awful,” Yaz tails off, staring at her lap guiltily. 

_ “You had to though, love. I know it must have been horrible, but she’s better off on her back.” _

“I know,” Yaz sighs, standing up to wander around the small room. “I just hated seeing her in that much pain, and having to temporarily cause her more.”

_ “It’s a necessary evil, Yaz. She’s not going to be angry with you for it, you know that,” _ Najia reassures.

“Yeah. Hard not to feel guilty though. Clara’s coming over for a movie afternoon later though, that should be a good distraction.”

Yaz can hear the smile in her mum’s voice during the next statement.  _ “That’ll be nice, give her my love. And remember, if the pair of you need anything, we’re right here for you.” _

“Actually, would it be okay if I sent Clara over for some stuff before she comes here?”

_ “Of course. What do you want her to pick up, and I’ll get it ready for her?” _

“Oh, that would be brilliant. Could you get my weighted blanket, and my black paper sketchbook? I remembered the other ones, but I fancy doing something in the black one. Oh, and my orange hoodie, please.”

_ “Okay, blanket, sketchbook, hoodie. Remember, both your dad and I are just a phone call away if you need us.” _

“Thanks mum, that means a lot. Talk to you later.”

_ “Talk to you later, love.” _

  
  


* * *

The sound of the buzzer makes both women jump, Jolie to such an extent that some of the water sloshes out of her glass and onto her t-shirt. 

“It’ll just be Clara,” Yaz reassures, handing her the tissue box to dry her top with. She’s been noticing the increased jumpiness all morning, and makes a mental note to do … something about that later. 

Yaz stands up to buzz Clara in, and then stays hovering by the door; it’s only one flight of stairs she has to make it up, there’s not much point in sitting down again. She glances back at Jolie, who is fiddling anxiously with her sling, her worries carrying out an attack on her bottom lip.

“It’s just Clara,” Yaz reassures yet again, swinging open the door in anticipation of her best friend’s arrival to avoid making Jo jump again. Thankfully it’s only another 20 seconds or so before the lift down the hall pings and Clara steps out, immediately spotting Yaz hovering outside Jolie’s front door. She bounds over with a grin and pulls Yaz into a suffocating hug, taking the slightly taller woman by surprise.

“How are you doing?” She asks, leaning back to give Yaz room to breathe.

“Alright,” Yaz shrugs. It’s definitely more complicated than ‘alright’, but while they’re stood chatting out here, Jolie is very much stuck inside on her sofa. She steps back against the door, holding it open and beckoning Clara inside before letting it swing shut with a creak of the hinges.

“Hiya, Calamity Jane!” Clara beams, crossing the room and pulling Jolie into a brief and gentle hug before sitting herself down on the floor and starting to empty the contents of her backpack.

“Yaz’s dad called me that too,” she muses, her face lighting up when she sees a Tupperware box being pulled out of the yellow bag. “Ooh, cookies!”

“Told ya!” Yaz grins, sitting down in her spot at Jolie’s feet, pulling them into her lap. “We can eat them later on, maybe with a movie.”

“Oh, yes, movie! I brought my Tangled DVD with me, one of you has a DVD drive in your laptops, right?”

“I do,” Jolie supplies, pointing at her laptop, which is sitting in it’s customary spot on her desk. “Although, we were wondering, could you maybe come food shopping with us first? Might be easier with an extra pair of hands, given I’m basically useless at the moment.”

Yaz is surprised that Jolie had done the asking, she had only agreed to the idea this morning because they really did need more food than just the basics Najia had brought over and because Yaz had suggested it. 

“Hey, not useless,” Yaz scolds gently, tapping her cast. “We would go later, but it’s due t’rain and we don't want to get caught out.”

Clara nods, standing up again and pulling her coat tighter around her shoulders. 

“Tesco it is!”

* * *

  
  


“Jo…”

“Yeah?”

“Have you been sneaking sweets into that basket?”

Jolie looks at her lap and then up at Yaz, who is standing in front of her, reaching for a tin of beans on a shelf.

“Well, technically, it wasn’t me who put them in there, because I couldn’t reach them,” she smirks, glancing at Clara who is further down the aisle and holding the other basket.

“Clara!”

“What? I’m just following instructions, as  _ you _ asked me to.”

Yaz rolls her eyes dramatically, passing the tin to Jolie who drops it into the basket. “I’m being ganged up on, unbelievable.”

* * *

“Ooh, turkey dinosaurs! Yaz, we’re getting turkey dinosaurs.”

“Oh my god, you actual  _ child,” _ Yaz jokes, reaching for the cardboard box in the freezer and passing it over to her girlfriend anyway.

“Oh, wait. Is it halal?” she remembers and Jolie inspects the box, brow furrowing through her glasses as she searches for the little symbol.

“Can’t see anything to say either way,” she concludes, holding the box out to Yaz for her to double check.

“Hmm, probably means no. We’ll get them anyway, I’ll look it up when we get home.” Yaz shrugs, dropping the box back into her girlfriend’s basket. The woman in question  _ squeaks _ in surprise and picks the box back up.

“No, no, cold! Cold stuff goes in Clara’s basket, please!”

* * *

Clara and Jolie are sitting outside the supermarket at the edge of the carpark, waiting for Yaz to be finished. The queue was long and people not watching where they were going kept walking into Jolie’s chair and jostling her, so Yaz sensibly suggested that she and Clara waited outside while she paid for the shopping. Jolie was more than happy to leave, although now, sitting at the edge of the busy carpark without Yaz, she’s regretting her choices slightly. Well, maybe a little more than just slightly. Clara picks up on it when a car swings past and Jolie jumps backwards. 

“Do you need a hand?” Clara moves her hand to Jolie’s armrest.

She takes it and Clara squeezes gently.

“Sorry.”

“Hey, don’t apologise. Not your fault, people should drive more carefully.”

“Y’sound just like Yaz,” Jolie grins, looking at Clara.

“Well, we’ve been best friends since we were four, there are bound to be some similarities.”

She nods her head, thinking about just how long her girlfriend and the woman sitting next to her have been best friends, how much they know about each other.

“Clara, can I ask you something?”

“Go for it.”

Jolie takes a deep breath. “Do you think I’m the right person for Yaz? You two have been friends for so long, and you obviously know each other so well, so I really value your opinion.”

“Honestly? I think you two are perfect together. Yaz never stops talking about you when she’s with me, she cares about you a lot. And I think as long as you feel the same way, then my opinion is nothing but positive.”

“I definitely feel the same way.”

“Well then there’s your answer.”

Jolie smiles and extracts her hand from Clara’s, feeling noticeably calmer.

“What do you usually do for Yaz’s birthday? I know it’s coming up and I don’t want to impose.”

Clara tucks a leg up onto the bench, smiling at Jolie. “First off, you’re her girlfriend, you could never impose. We kept things pretty chilled last year, for obvious reasons, but since it’s her 21st her family and I want to throw her a surprise party.”

“Ooh, I love surprise parties. Is there anything I can help with?” Jolie immediately feels her excitement spike, she’d been secretly anxious about what she would do for Yaz’s birthday. She was due her knee surgery the day after, and she would likely be all over the place on the day, so being to partake in something that other people would be organising is a huge relief.

“Actually yeah. We haven’t organised too many details yet, but we’re going to throw it at her flat. So we need to keep her distracted beforehand, could you do that?”

Jolie nods enthusiastically. “Since she’s living with me right now and probably still will be then, definitely. Anything else?”

Clara ponders for a moment. “If you want to help pick out decorations and stuff, ask Najia. She usually puts herself in charge of that stuff.”

Jolie nods, wrapping up their conversation just as Yaz comes out the automatic doors at the front of the supermarket.

“Home?” Yaz dumps the lighter (and less cold) of the two bags on Jolie’s lap and hands the other to Clara.

“Home,” Jolie confirms, pulling Yaz in for a light kiss before they set off.

* * *

Clara nudges Yaz’s knee from her spot on the floor, smirking.

“What?” Yaz draws her eyes away from the laptop where Tangled is still playing quietly.

Clara tilts her head at Jolie, who has nodded off against Yaz, settled comfortably between her legs and her head lolled against her shoulder, snoring lightly.

“Knew she wouldn’t make it through the whole thing,” Yaz muses, tilting her head down to gaze adoringly at her dozing girlfriend.

“She always snore?”

“Unfortunately, yes,” Yaz laughs, tenderly brushing some of Jolie’s stray hairs out of her face. “I’m used to it now though, kinda like my own personal white noise machine. Weird if she doesn’t snore.”

Clara smiles again, standing up and shaking her legs out from where she’s beginning to lose feeling from sitting on the floor for so long. “I’m telling her you called her a white noise machine, by the way. Do you think she’ll mind if I grab a glass of water?”

Yaz shakes her head, craning her neck to see over the back of the sofa to the kitchen. “Actually, could you make me tea too? Might be here for a while. Cupboard above the kettle.”

She’s just turned to check Jolie hasn’t twisted her ribs into a harmful position when she hears Clara make a noise of confusion and pokes her head back up over the sofa. She grins when she sees her best friend standing clutching the biscuit tin in one hand, gesturing vaguely at the cupboard filled to the brim with custard creams with the other. “Erm, Yaz?”

Yaz suppresses her burst of laughter to a soft huff and a chuckle to avoid waking Jo, and simply shakes her head. “Just accept it.”

Clara shrugs and returns to her task, and Yaz takes the opportunity to resettle herself. She tucks her chin over the top of Jolie’s head and is absent-mindedly stroking her hair behind her ear, the one that would normally sport her favourite ear cuff, while watching the movie that is still playing quietly in the background.

“Here ya go,” Clara smiles, handing over a steaming mug.

Yaz accepts the mug, careful not to spill any on her girlfriend and takes a sip. Clara is still standing, smiling at them.

“What’re you grinning at?” she inquires, setting her mug down on the floor.

“You two. You fit together.” Clara shrugs smugly, sitting cross-legged back on the carpet. Yaz just looks at her quizzically.

“No, really, you do. It’s like you're made for each other.”

Yaz grins back, a little teary. She looks back down as her girlfriend gives an adorable snuffle in her sleep, pressing her cheek further into Yaz’s shoulder.

“Do you think it’s too early to say that she might be the one?” Yaz’s voice is quiet and shy, almost as though she’s afraid to admit it herself. Clara looks back at her with a measured gaze.

“No, I don’t think so. If you really think that, then I don’t see why it would be too early. She loves you a lot, and you do too. I’m incredibly happy for both of you.”

Clara finishes with a strong smile, handing Yaz a tissue to wipe her eyes as she wells up.

“Clara?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

Yaz doesn’t have to tell her what she’s thanking her best friend for. The continuous and unending support through everything; the bullying in secondary school, her horrific first relationship, the fallout from that, and now, sitting here supporting her through caring for her girlfriend. Yaz thinks maybe they should be having this conversation at a more significant moment, in a better place. But really, their friendship and the support they gave each other had become so normal, that sitting with her best friend and her girlfriend (despite one of them being asleep) and watching a movie couldn’t be a more appropriate setting.

* * *

“There you go! All ten out,” the elderly nurse announces. Jolie looks up at Yaz, who smiles encouragingly at her. Jo turns to look back at the nurse, who is peeling the sterile gloves from her hands. She then tries to twist her head to look at her shoulder but it’s just out of her eyeline and she huffs in annoyance.

“Do you want me to look and take a picture for you?” Yaz asks, already letting go of Jolie’s hand and pulling her phone out of her pocket as she rounds the bed.

“Please.”

Yaz nods and takes a moment to look before snapping a few photos from different angles before angling her phone screen towards Jo.

“It’s a pretty impressive scar,” the blonde murmurs, flicking through the photos. It’s a fairly thick line, about two and a half inches in length and a dark red in colour. It stands out against the pale, slightly freckled skin of her shoulder.

“It is,” the nurse replies, handing Yaz a paper booklet. “If you treat it right, it’ll mostly fade, but most likely not completely. It’s up to you how much you let it.”

Yaz nods, taking careful mental notes for when Jolie inevitably asks later. “That’s a book of physio exercises there that you need to do so that you can regain full mobility in the joint. There’s also a list of recommended creams and ointments you can use to treat it. You might feel some tingling and stinging sensations over the next couple of weeks, that’ll just be the nerves growing back.”

“Thank you,” Jo smiles, experimentally moving her shoulder just a centimetre or so and then stopping abruptly when it pulls at the still slightly-tender skin.

“We have to go to the orthopaedics department now, any idea which way we should be heading?” Yaz asks while helping Jolie re-button her shirt, because she has absolutely no idea how to get there, and their appointment is in 10 minutes.

Thankfully, the nurse is more than happy to help and gives them directions while Yaz is supporting Jolie back into the wheelchair.. Five minutes later and only one wrong turn, they arrive in the orthopaedics department. Yaz checks them in at the front desk, and they’re told to take a seat until a doctor calls them through. The waiting room is fairly empty and Yaz is able to secure herself a chair on the end of a row, parking Jolie next to her. Her girlfriend’s good leg is bouncing so hard it’s rocking the wheelchair, so Yaz twists her body to look at her, taking her fidgeting hands into hers.

“Nervous?” She asks, and Jolie nods immediately.

“I’m going stir crazy, what if they don’t clear me for crutches today?” She whispers, anxiously glancing around to see if anyone else has heard her. Nobody has.

“We’ve been doing all the exercises to strengthen your arms for them, so we can only hope for the best. I’m here for you though, whatever they say,” she reassures. Jolie smiles back, tilting her head to rest it against Yaz’s. 

“I really hope so, this wheelchair is ridiculously uncomfortable for anything more than half an hour,” she laughs, and Yaz joins in.

“Try pushing you around in it!” Yaz jokes, and the two of them descend further into giggles until they’re interrupted by a call of Jolie’s name. Well, her full name, which never fails to sound strange to Yaz.

* * *

An x-ray and an MRI later, they’re sitting in a side room, a doctor clicking around on the computer in the corner. Jolie is so tense that her shoulders are up around her ears, and Yaz can hear the grinding of her teeth.

“Could you give us a moment?” Yaz asks the doctor. He nods in understanding and leaves the room quietly, allowing the young couple a moment to themselves.

“You okay?” Yaz asks, and Jolie shakes her head. She starts to bounce her good leg again so Yaz crouches down in front of her, resting one hand on her knee to still it and grabbing a hand in the other.

“Take a moment, breathe,” she encourages. She knows there’s no point in trying to get any sense out of her girlfriend when she’s like this, so she waits until Jolie speaks herself.

“That MRI were horrible. It was so claustrophobic,” she visibly shudders, and Yaz squeezes her hand in comfort.

“And now I’m just too worked up to do this crutches thing, because I don’t know what I have to do and if he’s going to have to touch me.” Her words are quiet, most likely because she’s ashamed of how she’s reacting to this. Yaz decides it just won’t do.

“That’s all perfectly valid, babe. I can talk to him for you, and hopefully I can do most of the things. And we can ask him to explain everything before he does it too?” Yaz makes the most sensible suggestion she can think of; she knows Jolie will regret things later if Yaz doesn’t talk her into staying and at least giving things a go. She gives a tentative nod, squeezing Yaz’s hands back. 

“Can we just get this over with now?” She asks, and Yaz nods in understanding. She still wants to do this, but as fast as they can. Yaz stands up to fetch the doctor again, explaining the situation. Thankfully he’s understanding and is business-like in his approach to assessing Jolie’s injuries. He works through stretching her shoulder out and then gently moving her wrist around.

“Well, I think your arm is strong enough to give crutches a go. Have you been doing the muscle exercises for your left leg?” Jolie grins at being given a chance, and nods enthusiastically.

“Yeah, every day. She’s been working me hard,” she jokes, tilting her head towards Yaz who rolls her eyes good-naturedly. Sometimes Jolie doesn’t  _ quite _ hear the insinuation in her words.

“Alright then. We’re going to take you down to the physio rooms, gives us a bit more space to work with.” The doctor stands up quickly and starts to walk out of the room, and Yaz has to jump into action to push Jolie after him. They’ve been to the physio rooms before, but not coming from this part of the hospital and it would be very easy to get lost.

They make it to a room without any mishaps (thankfully) and Jolie literally  _ glows _ when the doctor produces a pair of crutches. 

“Okay Jolie, we need to get these adjusted to your height first. If you can stand while your friend-“

“Girlfriend. Her name is Yaz,” Jolie interrupts, and Yaz blushes heavily at her enthusiasm to correct the man.

“Sorry, my mistake.” Yaz is pleased when his apology seems genuine. “Yaz can steady you while I adjust them and you find your balance. You might feel a bit dizzy and sore when you stand though, as you’ve been mostly sitting the last couple of weeks.”

“You ready?” Yaz asks, her hands ready to take Jolie’s when she stands up.

“As ready as I can be,” her girlfriend replies with a determined grin. She slowly pushes herself into a standing position, her balance completely off with only one leg to put her weight on and a significant lack of practice in being upright. Yaz’s hands fly out and grab her hips, steadying her, and she lets Jolie rest her forehead against hers.

“Nice to see you,” Yaz beams, and Jolie lets out a soft huff of laughter.

“What d’you mean Yaz, you’ve seen me every day for the last two weeks.” Jolie lifts her head up slightly, her dizzy spell apparently having passed. Her face is a picture of confusion, head tilted to one side and all. Yaz has to hold back her laugh.

“I mean, here, upright, you goon,” she replies, and Jolie rolls her eyes at her own ditzy comment.

“Blonde moment,” she laughs, and Yaz nods in agreement.

“There you go, all adjusted!” the doctor announces, stepping back to assess them. As Yaz had planned, she has successfully managed to distract Jolie through the whole process, preventing her from becoming more overwhelmed.

“Alright, so I’m pretty much just going to get you to walk up and down this room. Yaz, you can walk beside Jolie, but only touch her if she goes to fall and you’re catching her. Got it?”

Both women nod and Yaz lets go of her hips gently, moving to stand at her side and hovering a reassuring hand at the small of her back. Jolie adjusts her grip and then carefully moves the crutches forward, swinging her legs forward to follow through. She has the balance of a baby deer, but Yaz is so, so proud of her, knowing how anxious she had been in anticipation of today, and seeing her overcome her fears makes her smile brighter than the sun.

Jolie looks at her with a matching grin on her face and then takes another step, and another and another until she’s all the way over the other side of the room, still wobbling a little but grinning like an idiot.

“I’m so proud of you,” Yaz whispers, squeezing her upper arms. Jolie just grins back at her.

“Back we go,” the blonde announces, carefully turning herself around and hopping off. Yaz stays by her side the whole time, although it’s not really necessary. She’s wobbly but doing fine on her own. They complete a further four laps of the room, before they move onto a sloped block, and finally a small set of stairs.

“Well, you’ve passed, you can take them home!”

Jolie positively squeaks in delight, ironically almost falling over in her urgency to give Yaz a hug. Yaz steadies her before returning the embrace, squeezing her middle gently before letting her go again.

“You’ll need to keep up with the exercises you were already doing, as well as the new ones for your shoulder. You’ll also definitely have to wear the wrist splint when you use them, although you can take that off now if you’re not actively using the joint. And for the first week, we would recommend trying to keep the use of the crutches just inside the house, and only short outside trips.”

“Thank you,” Jolie beams, settling back into the wheelchair with Yaz’s supportive hand on her back. She wasn’t sure she was  _ quite _ ready to walk out on her own with them yet, especially since she was so exhausted from the day.

In fact, they’ve barely made it back into the flat before Yaz half-carries her bed and tucks her in, her eyes sliding shut for a much-needed afternoon nap.

* * *

“So, Jolie. Any idea what you’re getting Yaz?”

Jolie hops along beside Najia, paying attention to stick right beside her. It’s a rainy Saturday so the shopping centre is packed, but really she needed another person to go shopping with her, and it was getting closer and closer to Yaz’s birthday. Thankfully she’d had her cast removed a few days prior and was now sporting a bulky black boot-type thing, which she and Yaz had had great fun in calling it the “moon boot”. It’s much lighter and so much less exhausting to walk around in, but the best part was that she could wear so many more of her trousers now, even if it did hurt a bit when she tugged them over her ankle.

“Erm, there were a couple of books she mentioned wanting to read. Oh, and I saw a shirt a little while ago that I think would really suit her, I’d like to see if I can find that too.” Jolie doesn’t quite tell Najia her whole present plan; she’d already bought one, but wants to make sure nobody would let it slip to Yaz and she has a feeling Najia could be a bit of a gossip if she wanted to. With Clara’s help, she had managed to track down the owner of the stall where they had bought each other bracelets at Christmas. After much deliberation, she had decided on purchasing the matching earrings.

“Alright then. Her dad and I are wanting to get her some new sketching pencils, so why don’t we head to WHSmith first and see if we can find the books there?” 

Jolie agrees with Najia’s suggestion, and they head off to the other side of the shopping centre, Najia thankfully slowing her usual brisk pace so Jolie can keep up with her. They split up once they make it into the shop, Jolie heading towards the back where the books are kept.

They only seem to have one of the books in stock, which is fine, but Jolie runs into a problem when she realises she can’t actually carry the book she wants. Thankfully Najia appears in the aisle just as she feels herself starting to spiral and pulls her from her thoughts. 

“Found them?”

“Just the one. Erm, would you mind carrying it to the till for me?”

Najia nods and pulls the book from the shelf when Jolie points it out, checking it for any damage and then they set off to pay for their purchases.

Next they make their way to H&M, which is significantly busier and Jolie immediately feels her senses getting overwhelmed. When she was younger and struggling more with ADHD, before they had figured out the right balance of medication, she was dealing with panic attacks almost on the daily, any time she was anywhere just a little too loud and bright. Now, as an adult, she has a much better handle on things, but the accident had really knocked her confidence. She shakes her head to try and clear some of the buzzing and soldiers on; she really wants to get this shirt for Yaz so the quicker she gets it, the quicker they can leave.

They manage to find the shirt in question in Yaz’s size (a burnt orange with small white flecks) and pay for it, but as they’re making their way out of the shop a gaggle of teenage girls barge in, more interested in their phones and each other than where they’re going. One on the edge of the group trips over Jolie’s crutch and drops her bags on the floor, sending Jolie completely off balance. Thankfully Najia catches her before she can hit the floor, but it jars her still-healing shoulder and she yelps in both shock and pain.

A couple of the teenage girls immediately start speaking loudly at Jolie, clearly very offended by the thing she  _ apparently _ had done wrong, when she wasn’t at fault at all. Their increasingly high-pitched voices, the loud music of the shop and the overwhelming smell of the girls’ cheap perfume is becoming a lot, very fast.

“Excuse me, you are the one at fault here. You weren’t watching where you were going and you tripped over her crutch. If anything you should be apologising to her, not the other way around.” Najia’s voice is calm and measured and Jolie focuses on it like a lifeline, as well as the comforting, steadying arm looped through hers. They get a grumbled apology as the group of girls saunter off, clearly more interested in their phones and the clothes again.

“Jolie, Are you feeling okay?” Najia’s voice combined with a squeeze of her arm cuts through her brain fog.

“I … erm.. I’m not sure.”

“Alright, we’re going to walk out of here and find somewhere quiet to have a little sit down. I can leave my hand on your back to steady you if you like?”

Jolie nods with a weak smile and allows Najia to lead her from the shop and to a quieter corner, sinking down onto the first bench they find.

“Just take some deep breaths, you’re out of there now,” Najia reassures, holding out a hand for Jolie to take if she wants it, which she does. Najia squeezes it firmly.

“Sorry,” Jolie apologises a few minutes later. “Sometimes my senses just get all … big and loud and my head just feels like it’s going to burst. Doesn’t happen so often now, but today was a lot.”

“No need to apologise. I know it’s not quite the same but Yaz was much the same this time last year, it wasn’t that long before she met you that she first started going places on her own. You’ve been through a lot this last month or so. So I can empathise a bit with how you’re feeling, and it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Thank you Najia. That means a lot.” Jolie’s smile is genuine this time, and Najia gives a final squeeze of her hand before letting it go.

“I meant what I said when you were first hurt and we were sitting with you in hospital. I’m not sure if you remember, you were rather out of it, but I told you that you’re one of the family. I know we can’t replace whoever it was, the family that you had, but we consider you part of ours now. So, if you ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask us. You and my Yasmin are good for each other, you make each other happy.”

Jolie is embarrassed to realise she’s crying when Najia pulls her into a hug, and for once she doesn’t tense up. It feels nice, and safe. A proper motherly gesture.

“Thank you.”

“Anytime, love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SHoutout to the group of teenage girls who gave me a panic attack in Topshop three years ago, haven't been back since. Not me projecting onto my own characters, not at all 🙃
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! Please let me know what you thought. Also I have a twitter now! I'm over there @emmyphant_ so please feel free to come and say hi, I don't bite :)
> 
> I'm going to take a small break from posting this fic, I've recently started working again which means I have less time during the day to write, and on top of that my brain has just been a bit ... squirly ... lately. Basically I just want to enjoy writing this without the pressure of regularly updating for a bit, and then I'll get back to sharing when I'm closer to being finished!
> 
> Chapter title source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nbcCG7PkI18


	16. Only You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yaz trails kisses down her jawbone, nipping lightly as she moves to her collarbones, following the hem of her pyjama top. One of Jolie’s hands comes to rest at her hip, rubbing circles into the skin with her thumb, the other stroking lightly at the top of her spine. Jolie is squirming around on the bed beside her, making little noises of pleasure and Yaz has to stop and let out a giggle at a combination of Jolie tickling the back of her neck and a noise she makes that sounds a lot like a small kitten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! We are back with another chapter, and it's a chunky one! I you're expecting full smut based on the chapter summary you'll be a bit disappointed because that's just not my style, but there is still some stuff going on ;)
> 
> Anyway, enjoy almost 8.5k words of fluffiness and milestones!

The first noise Yaz hears on the morning of her 21st birthday is a loud thump coming from the direction of the kitchen. The second is a bird squawking outside the window. The third is her girlfriend’s voice, ringing out through the flat in what Yaz presumes is her cursing at herself.

“Argh! Fudge nuggets!”

Yaz snorts loudly in amusement, in spite of the fact that it’s not even 8am, on a Sunday, on her  _ birthday. _ Deciding she should probably go and investigate, she reluctantly slides out of bed and grabs the first warm item of clothing she sees, it’s cold this morning. The first thing she happens to find is Jolie’s jumper from yesterday. It’s warm and soft and smells like her. Pulling it over her head and padding barefoot into the kitchen, she hides a giggle behind her palm as she takes in the sight before her. Jo has a light dusting of flour covering her whole body, the bag at her feet being the most likely culprit. Her crutches are lying on the floor and she’s using a hand on the bench to steady herself.

“Ooh! Mornin’ Yaz! Happy birthday!”

“Good morning,” Yaz smirks, pulling the sleeves of the slightly too big jumper over her fingers and hopping up onto the kitchen island, swinging her legs. “Care to explain?”

“Well,” Jolie starts, twisting to face Yaz properly. She blows a stray lock of hair out of her face, sending a small white cloud into the air. “I wanted to make you a breakfast cake for your birthday, thought it would be appropriate. Tripped over my own crutch trying to reach the flour though, and yeah. Here we are.”

Yaz simply sits and smiles dopily at her, still a little sleepy.

“I love you,” she smiles, reaching out her hand for Jolie to step across the kitchen towards her. She does, slotting herself between Yaz’s knees and leans up to kiss her sweetly. 

“Hmm, love you too,” Jolie replies, resting her hands on Yaz’s knees. “I know it’s supposed to be your birthday breakfast and everything, but would you mind helping me get all the ingredients out? I can do everything else after that though.”

“Sure,” Yaz agrees, hopping down from the counter. “Just tell me what you need and I’ll grab it.”

They work quickly and easily together to get all the necessary ingredients laid out neatly on the counter, Yaz having lived and cooked in the flat for such a length of time that she already knows where everything is. While Jolie presumably makes the cake, Yaz takes the opportunity to pray and get ready for the day. 

She’s just pulling her softest joggers up her legs when Jolie pokes her head around the bedroom door, still slightly floury. “Cake’s in the oven, should be about 45 minutes.”

Yaz wanders over the room and winds her hands around Jolie’s waist, holding her in a loose embrace. “Thank you, you’re the best. Although, do you think we should try and de-flour you?”

She giggles when Jolie sneezes at just the right moment, proving her point exactly. Yaz leads her to the bathroom and sits her down on the edge of the bath, pulling her hair dryer out from under the sink.

“Okay, my thinking is, we try and blow as much of the flour out of your hair as possible and into the bath, then sweep it up with a dustpan and brush,” Yaz states, unwinding the cord and plugging the hairdryer in. 

“Why into the bath?”

“Because it’s a contained space, much easier to clean up.”

“Smart girl, you,” Jolie grins, and Yaz rolls her eyes good-naturedly, bringing the hairdryer up and switching it on.

As she runs her fingers and the hot air through Jolie’s hair, shaking out the fine white dust that has settled there, she feels her girlfriend start to relax under her touch. The tension she was carrying in the creases of her forehead and the hunch of her shoulders hadn’t escaped Yaz’s attention, but she hadn’t brought it up. It is as much due to the fact that she simply hadn’t had a chance, as that she knows exactly why Jolie is so on edge, and pointing it out would only serve to worsen her already brewing anxiety. Instead she settles for letting Jolie dictate the morning, chipping in and offering suggestions and subtle ways to distract her whenever she can. Like, apparently, blowing flour out of her hair for slightly longer than necessary.

She stops when she feels Jolie start to slouch forwards in her relaxation, and, not wanting to have her end up on the bathroom floor, she clicks off the air. She earns an unimpressed pout for her decision.

“Think you got some in the moon boot too,” Yaz observes, gesturing to her foot. It is indeed lightly dusted in flour, the substance standing out much more against the black material than it had her head. Jolie sighs in frustration but reaches down to undo the Velcro straps anyway, carefully sliding it from her lower leg and handing it over to Yaz. She blows away the flour with the hairdryer while Jolie carefully wipes it away from her skin with a dry flannel and then works the moisturising cream into her shoulder while she’s at it.

They both then take the opportunity to brush their teeth and just as they’re finishing up, the oven timer goes. Jolie carefully puts the boot back on before making her way back to the kitchen in excitement, serving up the breakfast cake with an assortment of fruit while Yaz makes tea. They (mostly Yaz) then carry the whole lot back to the bedroom and settle happily under the duvet, Jolie wrapping the weighted blanket around her shoulders.

“Food first, or presents?” Jolie asks.

“Food.” Yaz’s answer is easy. Ramadan had ended a few days prior and her stomach still isn’t used to eating breakfast later in the day. It’s half past eight and she’s ravenous.

Jolie happily obliges, handing over Yaz’s plate with the slice of breakfast cake and setting the large bowl of fresh fruit between them. They elect to watch the next episode of the documentary series they’ve been working their way through while they eat, the atmosphere easy and relaxed. 

“Oh my god, this is amazing,” Yaz mumbles around her first mouthful of the cinnamon-filled sugary treat, turning to look at Jo who has a shy smile on her face. “When did you learn to make this?”

“It were my granny’s recipe. Her mum taught her, and then she taught me.”

“Well, the women of your family are very talented bakers,” Yaz concurs, taking another generous bite of the food. 

“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m talented. Just good at following instructions. First time I tried to make it on my own, I tried to make it with orange slices and it was a soggy mess. My granny couldn’t stop laughing at me when she came home.”

Yaz smiles at Jolie. There’s a wistful look on her face and a sadness to her voice, but she seems to be happy to be reminiscing too.

“What else did she teach you to make?”

Jolie stares at her plate, and Yaz worries she’s gone a step too far, that she’s proved too much and caused old, buried memories to resurface painfully and rip away at the carefully constructed brave face she’s built up. Not only about her childhood, Yaz knows that that is something Jolie will reveal to her over time, but also about her surgery tomorrow, and the huge amount of anxiety she has lingering under the surface. But then she looks up at Yaz with a watery smile on her face and Yaz holds out a hand in an offering of support. She takes it, squeezing gently in gratitude.

“All sorts. Cottage pie, fruit pies. All the pies really. Oh, and meringues, although I never quite got the hang of that one. So many cakes. She was an amazing cook.” Jolie’s voice is starting to crack a little, so Yaz gently pulls her into a hug, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head.

“Maybe we could make some together sometime. When I’m better,” she mumbles into Yaz’s shoulder, so quietly that Yaz almost doesn’t hear it.

“I’d like that.”

They sit cuddled up while they eat the rest of the breakfast, watching the documentary. Unsurprisingly, Jolie spills crumbs all down both of them.

“This is why I don’t let you eat breakfast in bed,” Yaz giggles, picking at the crumbs as best she can and making a neat little pile of them on her plate.

“Well, it’s your birthday, so breakfast in bed is a must. Speaking of, time for presents?” 

“I told you, you didn’t have to get me anything!” Yaz protests, but she knows full well it’s completely futile. Even if she had been against presents, the excitement on Jolie’s face as she swaps the plate in her lap for a rainbow-striped gift bag would convince her to go along with it anyway.

“I’m your girlfriend and it’s your birthday, your 21st even! Presents are mandatory!”

The first gift Yaz pulls out of the bag is soft and wrapped in baby blue tissue paper. She carefully unpicks the tape and pulls the paper away to reveal the shirt Jolie had bought a few weeks earlier, and grins widely. 

“Babe, this is perfect! I love it,” she exclaims, planting a kiss on a blushing Jolie’s cheek and holding the fabric up in front of her to take in the item of clothing in full. “When did you get this?”

“Your mum took me shopping a couple of weeks ago when you were at work,” Jolie smiles, hiding her face behind the curtain of blonde hair.

“You’re amazing.” Yaz carefully folds up the fabric and places it on the bed next to her. “I think I’ll wear it to my parents’ later,” she decides, diving back into the gift bag again.

She gets excited over the book and gives the blurb a read before setting it down carefully atop the folded shirt. She can almost hear Jolie sucking in a nervous breath as she reaches for the last gift in the bag. She unwraps the small box carefully, flicking open the lid to reveal a delicate pair of earrings that resemble small constellations.

“Jo, they’re beautiful,” she breathes, running the tip of her finger across the shiny silver metal.

“Remember the bracelets that we bought each other at the Christmas market? Well I got Clara to help me track down the lady who ran the stall, and turns out she does matching earrings!” Jolie is looking so pleased with herself but also so nervous as she tries to gauge her girlfriend’s reaction, that Yaz feels herself melt a little on the inside.

“I love them,” she affirms, handing the box to Jolie. “Help me put them in? Never been able to do it without a mirror.”

Jolie happily obliges and takes the earrings from the box, delicately tilting Yaz’s head towards her and pushing her hair behind her ear. Her touch against Yaz’s skin is featherlight and so, so careful, probably because Jolie  _ knows _ Yaz has a sensitive spot just below her ear and is trying to avoid starting anything, but actually Yaz wants her too. Her tongue adorably poking out the corner of her mouth just slightly and her warm breath ghosting over Yaz’s cheek is making it very hard to keep her cool, and Yaz both welcomes and mourns the loss when she moves to the other side to fix the other earring. Although that turns out to be even more torturous, and she has to momentarily close her eyes to distract herself from just how close Jolie’s face is to hers. 

When she’s done, Jolie flicks her phone onto the front-facing camera and hands it to Yaz, allowing her to look at how the earrings fit into her ears. They’re small and delicate, climbing from the bottom of her ear about an inch up each lobe, adorning the dark skin with small sparkles. She grins brightly.

“I love them, thank you.” Yaz boldly leans forward and wraps her arms around the back of Jolie’s neck, pulling her forward for a passionate kiss. Jolie reciprocates happily with a hum of pleasure, winding her arms around Yaz’s waist and gently stroking her lower back.

“Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you,” the blonde mumbles, resting her chin atop Yaz’s shoulder.

“Hmm, can it wait?”

“If we wait I’ll forget,” Jolie reasons, sitting back and taking Yaz’s hands in hers as she unwinds them from behind her neck.

“Okay then, what is it?”

Jolie goes to fidget with her hands, but then realising she can’t because Yaz is holding them, settles for bouncing her good knee up and down on the bed. “Well, you see, the thing is my tenancy here is up in August, and obviously because it’s student housing and I won’t be a student anymore, I’ve got to move out. I know I want to stay in Sheffield, I just have no idea where or what I’m going to be doing and how far away I’m going to be from you and how much time we’ll have together. And I think I want you nearby so we can make the most of the time together. Sorry, I’m fumbling this…”

“Babe, are you asking me to move in with you?” Yaz takes pity on her and squeezes her hands gently.

“Yeah. Well technically I’m asking if you want to move into a new place together, but basically yes. Yasmin Khan, will you move in with me?”

Yaz smiles widely. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah… Wait, are you not sure? Because it’s okay if you’re not, I know I kind of just dropped it on you and I know we haven’t been together all that long. Oh god I’ve overstepped haven’t I? I’m so sorry, I’m so bad at thi-“

“Rambling, Jo.” Yaz cuts her off and squeezes her hands in reassurance again. “Yes, I’m a bit caught off guard, but I’m not opposed to the idea. I know these last six weeks haven’t been planned, but I’ve absolutely loved living with you. We work well together. I want to go to bed every night holding you, I want to wake up in the mornings with you, I want to spend all my free time with you. So, yes Jolie, let’s find a place together.”

“Really?” Jolie checks.

“Really,” Yaz smiles, pulling her back in for another kiss and slides them both under the covers. She hooks her ankle around the back of her counterpart’s thighs and tugs her closer. Jolie squeaks a little in surprise but soon settles into it, taking a breath and then kissing her deeper and slower.

Yaz trails kisses down her jawbone, nipping lightly as she moves to her collarbones, following the hem of her pyjama top. One of Jolie’s hands comes to rest at her hip, rubbing circles into the skin with her thumb, the other stroking lightly at the top of her spine. Jolie is squirming around on the bed beside her, making little noises of pleasure and Yaz has to stop and let out a giggle at a combination of Jolie tickling the back of her neck and a noise she makes that sounds a lot like a small kitten.

“Stay still, babe,” she laughs, resting her forehead against Jolie’s.

“Very hard when you’re teasing me like that.”

“Well, you’re not helping me much either,” she fires back with a grin, glancing pointedly at the hand resting on her hip. “Although we don’t have to keep to just … this?” Her suggestion is tentative but Jolie smiles back at her and, in one smooth move, tugs her pyjama top over her head. It’s probably the most graceful movement she’s ever executed, bar the skating rink date which Yaz still can’t get her head around. For someone so clumsy, she really shouldn’t be that coordinated when on a slippery surface with wheels attached to her feet.

However all thoughts about her girlfriend’s general disastrous disposition fly out the window and land on the street below when she takes in the sight before her. She sees the rise and fall of her girlfriend’s chest as she gulps nervously.

Yaz inches her hands higher before they come to rest at the sides of her breasts, thumbs ghosting over small swells. “You’re beautiful,” she breathes, smiling softly when Jolie lets out a shuddering breath and turns beetroot red.

“Even it out?”

Yaz nods firmly and before she can overthink the whole situation, she tugs her own jumper over her head, albeit with a little less coordination, and pulls Jolie into another urgent kiss.

“Hey, Yaz. Yaz, slow down.”

Yaz leans back, lightening her hold she has on her girlfriend. “Sorry, sorry.”

“You’re fine. I just don’t want us to rush things, for us both to be sure.” Jolie uses the back of her fingers to stroke Yaz’s cheek, her other hand dancing across her ribcage.

“Sorry. I am sure, I just needed to sort of...jump in before I lost my nerve. Leap of faith sort of thing.” She smiles and squeezes Jo’s waist to reassure her.

“Stop apologising. I love you and you’re beautiful.” She glances down pointedly at Yaz’s newly exposed skin, and now it’s the brunette’s turn to flush.

“Can I kiss you now?”

Yaz laughs with a sure nod, moving in to capture Jo’s lips again with her own. It grows in intensity fast, love and lust swirling between them as Yaz arches into the touch.

“You’re very warm,” Jolie murmurs, palming at her chest while trailing light kisses up Yaz’s jawbone and ending at the sensitive spot just below her ear.

“Hmm … babe. That’s erm, huh, that’s very nice,” Yaz mumbles into Jolie’s hair, running her fingers lightly up her sides.

They end up lazily making out and exploring each other for a while, figuring out each other’s sensitive spots with the newly exposed skin and making the most of a rare quiet morning at home together, with nowhere pressing to be. No university, no work, just them. Their kisses and ministrations slowly grow more heated, and Yaz finds herself boldly trailing a line of kisses down Jolie’s neck and to her collarbone. 

Unfortunately, they’re very rudely interrupted by a loud alarm on Jolie’s phone piercing through their quiet moment together and very much making itself known.

“Jo, whyyy,” Yaz whines into her shoulder as Jolie reaches over her to silence her phone.

“Because it’s 10 o’clock and we’re due at your part- at your parents in an hour and a half and I knew whatever we ended up doing this morning we would get distracted. Hence the alarm,” she explains, running the backs of her hands up and down Yaz’s arms.

“I hate you,” the brunette grumbles, poking her girlfriend in the ribs.

“Nah, you love me. Anyway, you’re the one who suggested the whole phone alarm thing months ago,” she points out, and Yaz huffs in defeat.

“C’mon then, let’s get ready,” the blonde instructs, throwing back the duvet and sitting up. 

“Wait, Jolie, maybe you should… close the curtains first,” Yaz sighs as her girlfriend stands up without any regard to the very much see through part of the wall.

“Too late,” Yaz concludes, sliding out of bed and efficiently pulling the curtains across without actually placing herself in front of the window. Jolie just grins sheepishly back at her and shrugs, and there’s no way Yaz can be mad at her with a face like that. “Get dressed, you goon.”

They both get dressed fairly quickly; Jolie in a navy jumpsuit decorated with little white stars and Yaz in the new orange shirt and skinny jeans. They both don their matching Christmas bracelets, then Jolie helps Yaz adjust the accompanying earrings that had been knocked out of place earlier.

Jolie is standing at the mirror, trying to get her slightly wavy blonde hair to fall into its usual neat side-parting when she turns to look at Yaz with pinched eyebrows and a slight downturn to her lips.

“Erm, Yaz…”

“Yeah?” She looks up from where she was tucking her shirt into the waistband of her jeans.

“I’ve got a bit of a … erm … mark on my neck,” she mumbles, cheeks flushing as she points at the newly-formed bruise that her jumpsuit doesn’t quite hide.

“Oops?” Yaz shrugs and tries to hide her giggle behind her palm, but it escapes regardless. Jolie joins in and it lightens the atmosphere easily.

“Here, sit down,” she offers, grabbing Jolie’s makeup bag from atop her dresser and sitting on the bed. She pats the space next to her.

“I’m pretty sure I remember how to cover these up, although you’re a lot paler than me. Same principle should apply though.” Yaz sets to work, gently applying product to the area while Jolie holds her hair out the way.

“You’ve done this before?” the blonde asks in curiosity.

“Yeah. With … him.” She focuses her gaze on her girlfriend’s skin, giving all her attention to covering up the mark as well as she can. Not that she’s ashamed, after all they’re adults, but still, it’s not ideal to turn up to your parents’ house with a love bite on your girlfriend’s neck.

“Oh, yes. Sorry. Should have thought.” Jolie backtracks quickly, smacking the palm of her free hand against her forehead.

“Hey, you’re fine,” Yaz reassures, sitting back to scrutinise her work. “You’re allowed to ask me about him. I just had to cover up things quite a lot, he wasn’t always the greatest when I told him not to leave visible marks.”

Jolie is looking at her with a concerned expression, clearly worried she’s overstepped a boundary.

“Jo, please don’t worry about it. Perfectly valid question, and you deserve to know these things, especially if they affect our relationship. I  _ want _ you to know these things.” Yaz pats her shoulder and starts putting the makeup back in the little fabric bag covered in polka dots. “Anyway, all done. You’re good to go.”

“You’re amazing,” she beams, kissing Yaz gently on her cheek. “We’ve still got a bit before we need to go, are you ready?”

“Erm, should probably do something with my hair,” Yaz concludes, running her fingers through the ends of the strands.

“I’ll do it!” Jolie offers in excitement, and Yaz can’t help but agree. She happily slides onto the floor and leans back against the edge of the bed between Jolie’s knees, blissing out a little as her girlfriend runs her nimble fingers through dark, loosely curled locks, styling it how she sees fit.

* * *

The walk over to Yaz’s family flat is slow but pleasant, the early May sunshine warming them both enough that they only have to wear thin jackets. Jolie even leaves one crutch behind in favour of looping an arm through Yaz’s so they can sort of hold hands. Yaz can’t help but admit she’s missed it. 

“You look really pretty today, babe,” Jolie smiles as they walk through the park, taking a moment to have a break and sit down on a bench.

“Thank you. Although you did choose my shirt and earrings. And do my hair.” Yaz kisses her cheek gently. “You look amazing, by the way,” she adds, casually slinging an arm over her shoulders. She’s glad they’re sitting back from the main path a little, the sunny Saturday weather has brought out a lot of people.

“Is this not the same bench we sat on when we were both freaking out about me meeting your parents for the first time?” Jolie asks, glancing around.

“Oh yeah, it is. How long ago was that? Six months?”

“Six and a bit, I think. Maybe closer to seven” Jolie replies, squeezing Yaz’s hand that’s resting over her shoulder. “Feels like forever ago, though.”

“Yeah. Can’t believe we’ve been official for that long, it’s crazy.”

“You’re getting soft in your old age,” Jolie teases, and Yaz gasps in fake offence. 

“You know I’m really a softie under this tough exterior! Besides I’m only 21, you’ve got two years on me!” she grins, standing back up and offering Jolie her arm, who takes it and stands with her.

“Come on, we’d better get going, or we’ll be late.”

* * *

Yaz watches Jolie carefully as they make their way along the long walkway to her family flat. Having their arms looped together, she can feel how tense her girlfriend’s muscles are. 

“You feeling okay, Jolie?”

“Hmm? Me, yeah, totally fine. Peachy,” She smiles and gives Yaz's forearm a squeeze to try and drive her point home.

Yaz frowns a little but doesn’t push the point. She’s sure she’ll be fine once they’re inside and sitting down.

Upon reaching the front door, she’s confused at the relative silence coming from within the flat. Her family are chatty people, so you can usually hear at least a little noise coming from the other side of the door. But there’s nothing.

Letting go of Jolie’s arm, she makes sure she’s steady before fumbling her key out of her pocket and twisting it in the lock. Her suspicions arise when she pushes the door open and nobody comes forward to greet her; surely they heard the lock turning? It would be worrying if they hadn’t.

“Surprise!”

Yaz blinks in shock as suddenly the room is filled with people and noise, stumbling backwards into Jolie. Thankfully her girlfriend is prepared and catches her with ease, steering them both to fall sideways into the wall rather than backwards onto the floor.

Najia hurries forwards to pull her daughter out of her haze of surprise, hugging her tightly.

“Happy birthday, sweetheart,” she smiles, leaning back to study Yaz’s face.

“Did you organise all this, mum?”

“Mostly. Had some help though.” She nods over Yaz’s shoulder at Jolie, who has righted herself and is grinning like a cat that got the cream. Yaz turns around to pull her girlfriend into a tight hug of gratitude. Really she wants to kiss her, but she thinks that that’s probably not the best idea with a room full of people watching them.

“Go on Yaz, go say hi to people!” Jolie encourages, giving her a light push further into the flat. Yaz turns around and properly takes in the room and the people it holds for the first time. Of course her parents and her sister are there, as well as her Nani sitting on the sofa. Clara is hovering in the kitchen with Danny, Ryan with Grace and Graham in the living room. Her mum’s sister, her husband and two kids are all sitting at the dining table, and an older cousin on her dad’s side is hovering by the balcony doors with his wife and their baby daughter.

Yaz moves around the flat and greets each person individually and warmly, explaining who Jolie is to the family members that haven’t met her yet. She takes great joy in meeting her tiny baby cousin for the first time, completely enamoured by the miniscule hand that wraps around her index finger and the gurgle the little girl gives in response.

From the other side of the room, Najia subtly guides Jolie over to the sofa to settle down beside Umbreen, who greets her with a kind smile and a pat on the knee.

“How are you doing?”

Jolie smiles tentatively. “Okay … Bit nervous about tomorrow if I’m being completely honest.”

“You have your big surgery tomorrow, yes?”

Jolie nods.

“You’re a strong girl, and you’ll have my Yasmin with you. She’s good, she’ll look after you.”

Jolie nods again, and this time adds a smile. “She’s already been looking after me well, she’s amazing.” She glances wistfully over at Yaz, who is talking to the baby. Her heart swells. Umbreen watches her with a knowing smile on her face. This woman is absolutely smitten with her granddaughter, and as far as she’s concerned, the affection is mutual. Even though she may not necessarily agree with the tradition of the family giving a woman their blessing for marriage, she would give her granddaughter her blessing over and over if she ever asked.

“She likes baby Maira. I think Maira likes her too.”

Jolie can see Umbreen’s knowing smile out of the corner of her eye. Yaz getting along so well with the tiny human is stirring certain … feelings inside her, and she can’t tear her eyes away. It makes her girlfriend seem one thousand times softer, and in turn it makes her insides all gooey.

Yaz eventually finishes talking to everyone and makes a beeline for her girlfriend with a wide smile on her face. She perches on the arm of the sofa and leans down to give Jolie a quick kiss on the forehead now that the whole room isn’t staring at them.

“You were getting on well with the baby,” Jolie muses.

“Yeah. She’s cute. We haven’t had a baby in the family for ages, it reminded me how much I like them.”

Jolie smiles up at Yaz and then across the room at the baby again, watching her carefully.

“I bet if you asked, they would let you hold her.” Yaz’s hint is less than subtle, Jolie has a feeling Yaz might just go as soft and gooey watching her hold the baby and she did with her.

“Could you do the asking?”

“‘Course.”

* * *

Yaz is refilling her Nani’s drink in the kitchen and glancing around the room when she realises she can’t see Jolie anywhere. Now that she thinks about it, she’s been chatting to her Nani for the last fifteen minutes at least, so she has no way of knowing where Jolie has disappeared to.

“Mum, have you seen Jo?” she asks, running her thumb up and down the side of her Nani’s glass.

“Erm…” Najia falters, glancing around the room. “Now that you mention it, no. I can’t see Clara either, actually.”

Yaz gives the room another glance, confirming her mother’s statement. “Huh, mind if I go and try to find Jolie? She’s been a bit off this morning.”

“Of course not sweetheart, it’s your party and she’s your girlfriend, you don’t have to ask,” Najia smiles, taking the glass so Yaz can get straight to looking for the blonde. A glance at both the hall bathroom and her parents’ en-suite confirm that both doors are open and the lights are off, and therefore there’s nobody in there. However her own bedroom door is slightly ajar and she can see movement in the shadows against the wall. She raps lightly on the painted wood and pushes it open quietly.

Jolie is sitting on the edge of her bed, shaking a little and hanging her head, and Clara is next to her, rubbing her back comfortingly. They both look up at Yaz as she enters the room, and she can instantly see that Jolie’s face is pale and blotchy, her eyes a little red. The blonde throws a weak smile in her direction before returning to stare at her knees. Yaz perches gently beside her in the space not occupied by Clara, interlinking her fingers with Jolie’s and squeezing gently.

“What’s up?”

Jolie sniffs and wipes her eyes with the heel of her other hand. “It’s stupid,” she mumbles.

“No it’s not,” Yaz and Clara respond firmly at the same time, and they burst into giggles. Jo joins in with a weak laugh.

“Jolie, I think I know why you’re upset, and I can guarantee Yaz won’t think it’s stupid,” Clara reassures, glancing pointedly at Yaz. 

“She’s right,” Yaz chips in. “I hate it when she’s right.”

Jolie gives a small huff of laughter again and kneads her thigh with the knuckles of her free hand, something which Yaz recognises as a coping technique she uses when she’s struggling to process her thoughts. Yaz lets her do it until she’s ready to speak.

“I’m really anxious about tomorrow and everyone keeps asking me about it and I can’t stop thinking about it,” she bursts out in one big breath, letting her body fall sideways into Yaz and crying again.

Yaz hugs her tight.

“Sorry, I should have warned them,” Yaz apologises, rubbing her arm comfortingly.

“No no it’s fine, that’s not something you should have t’think about. God, it’s your birthday and I’m ruining it,” she cries, extracting herself from Yaz’s hug and flopping backwards onto the bed. She throws her hands over her face with a low groan.

Yaz and Clara flop back right beside her.

“A: not ruining it. B: I get it. Please don’t think it’s escaped my attention how on edge you’ve been all morning.” Yaz tries to keep her voice soft and non-accusatory, but Jolie just gives another groan of frustration.

Yaz gently pries her hands away from her face.

“Clara managed to get me to calm down and now I’m all worked up again.” Jolie chokes back a small sob, and Yaz turns on her side so she can pull Jolie into her and rub deep pressure circles into her back.

“Don’t worry about it,” Clara adds, pulling herself up from the bed and heading to the door. “I’ll just go and get you a glass of water, I’ll be right back.”

They both watch Clara go and then Yaz sits back up and shuffles to the corner of her bed. Jolie props herself up on her elbows and then, after a raised eyebrow from Yaz, shuffles to join her.

When they hear footsteps coming back down the hallway, Jolie is half-sitting in Yaz’s lap, curled around her while Yaz lazily traces circles on her shoulder.

“Picked up a stray,” she quips, pointing her thumb over her shoulder at Ryan who ducks through the door behind her, brandishing a box of tissues. He throws it in Jolie’s direction, misses, and then flops down onto the floor beside the bed. 

“I’m not a stray,” he grumbles. “I was having a perfectly nice conversation with your sister and then  _ someone _ dragged me away,” he adds, glaring in Clara’s direction. She shrugs with a smirk and sets the glass of water down on Yaz’s windowsill, taking her usual place at the foot of Yaz’s bed.

“I saved you really,” Clara grins, laughing when Ryan scowls at her like a stroppy five-year-old.

“Ryan, I swear to god, if you were flirting with my sister again, I will kill you,” Yaz threatens playfully. Out of the corner of her eye she spots Jo picking up a pillow, lobbing it at Ryan with surprising accuracy. Yaz bursts out laughing when Ryan is left spluttering. She understands why Clara dragged Ryan back here with her; to give Jolie a distraction, to hang out and be stupid with friends rather than focusing on other things.

“Wait, I didn’t actually hurt you, did I?” Jolie asks in concern as Ryan continues to rub his forehead.

“Nah, I’m fine mate. Good shot, though.”

“Oh thank god,” Jolie sighs, relaxing back into her girlfriend. Yaz can’t help but laugh at her again, pulling her in and dropping a kiss to her forehead.

_ “Wow,  _ you two have gone domestic,” Clara comments with a raised eyebrow. Both Jolie and Yaz look at each other and snigger at the timing of the comment, Jolie turning beetroot red when they both feel their friends’ eyes on them.

“What, why do you both look guilty,” Ryan questions, leaning forward and resting his chin on his hands.

“Erm…” Jolie falters.

“She asked me to move in with her this morning,” Yaz supplies. “And I said yes.”

Clara practically  _ squeals _ and launches herself across the bed, wrapping her best friend in a tight hug.

“That’s fantastic, mate!”

“Well, we’re going to find a place together when Jo’s rent is up in August, but yeah. We’re moving in together. Although do  _ not _ say anything to my family, I haven’t had a chance to mention it yet,” Yaz warns, pointing an accusatory finger at Clara.

“Why are you looking at me?”

“Because you’re the biggest gossip here,” Yaz bites back, and Clara pouts.

“It’s true mate, you can’t even protest against that,” Ryan adds, yelping in a shockingly high-pitched tone as Clara throws another pillow at him.

“I’m being ganged up on, I’m going to find Danny,” he grumbles, standing up and balancing himself before slouching out of the room with a playful frown.

The three women smirk at his childlike exit, before Jolie hides her face in Yaz’s hair again and lets out a shaky breath.

“Do you need a few more minutes?” She whispers into the crown of her head.

Jolie nods her head, winding her arms more securely around Yaz’s middle.

“I think we’re doing food soon, I should probably go and sort that out.” Clara begins to shuffle off the bed but to her surprise, is stopped as Jolie catches her wrist and pulls her towards her, drawing her into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” she whispers, so quiet that Yaz can barely hear it. 

“No problem,” Clara replies with a smile, gently returning Jolie to Yaz’s hold and slipping out of the room.

* * *

“Clara, this cake is amazing,” Jolie exclaims, taking a large bite of the raspberry and white chocolate treat on her fork. Yaz smiles at her affectionately. They’ve worked their way through the large spread of party food prepared by Clara, Grace and Najia, Ryan and Jolie getting into a fierce competition of how many scotch eggs they could fit into their mouth (Jolie won by four to three and a half, much to Ryan’s dismay). Now, after thoroughly embarrassing Yaz with a happy birthday song, she’s sitting with Jo, Clara, Ryan and Danny in the corner of the living room while the rest of the guests mingle elsewhere.

“I’ll make you one for your birthday if you like, Jolie.”

The blonde’s eyes light up at the prospect. “Really?”

“Of course. When’s your birthday?”

“13th of July.”

“Wait, is that not when we’re going camping?” Ryan looks up from his cake, glancing between his friends.

“Camping? What camping?” Jolie’s face is a picture of confusion.

“Yaz, did you forget to ask her?” Clara is smirking knowingly, hiding a laugh behind her palm when Jolie lightly smacks her girlfriend on the arm in annoyance.

“There’s been a lot going on!” Yaz protests, but then turns to Jolie to speak to her properly. “Sorry, I completely forgot to ask you. But the four of us —” she gestures between the friends sitting around them “— go on a camping trip up near Scotland every summer. And I meant to ask if you wanted to come with us. We’ll be away on your birthday, but it might be a nice way to celebrate. What do you think?”

Jolie looks around the group of Yaz’s closest friends that she now also considers to be her own, weighing up her options.

“What about…?” she tails off, gesturing at her leg.

“It’s two months away, you should have recovered enough to go by then. And if not, it’s nothing to worry about since we already have the plot booked and we pay for the plot rather than the amount of people going. So it’s no big deal if we don’t go,” Yaz explains, placing a hand on her thigh in comfort.

“Alright then! I’m up for that!”

“This is going to be amazing,” Ryan chips in, shoving the rest of his cake into his mouth.

“Wait, do I still get cake if we go camping?”

The four friends burst into a chorus of laughter.

“What?”

* * *

When they return to Jolie’s flat, they’re both tired and happy. Even better, Jolie seems to have calmed down significantly from the slow walk home. Despite the fact that she dramatically collapses on the sofa immediately, there’s a smile on her face when Yaz joins her.

“I need a shower,” she groans, crossing her arms over her stomach.

“Well go have one.”

“Too much effort. But I need one before tomorrow or I’ll be disgusting for days.”

Yaz turns her head to look at her as an idea pops into her head. “What if we took a bath.”

Jolie’s interest piqued, she turns her head too. “Together?”

“Mhmm. Too much?” Yaz backtracks a little, ever worried that she’s crossed a line. 

“No, not too much. So long as you let me make bubble hats.” Jolie grins wickedly, already hauling herself up from the sofa and hopping away to the bathroom.

“As long as there are no bubble ‘staches. ‘Cause I refuse to kiss you and get a mouthful of bubbles!”

* * *

“This is nice,” Yaz mumbles, settling back against her girlfriend and letting the over-bubbly bath run over her skin. Breathing through the initial awkwardness of how close (and naked) they are, Yaz realises she feels happier than she has in … weeks. Sure, she’s been immeasurably calmer and happier since she met Jolie, but the last six weeks have been very trying. Having to balance work, university, her family, friends, a girlfriend and caring for said girlfriend had been starting to wear her thin, and she’s sure they’re not out of the woods yet. But right here, in this moment, it’s like nothing else outside of the tiny bathroom exists and they can just enjoy this time with each other without having to worry about any of the countless tornadoes whipping around them on the other side of that door.

Yaz sighs in contentment when Jolie winds strong arms around her middle and then she shivers a little when she feels her start to run the fingertips of one hand over the scarred area of her stomach. She enjoys the sensation actually, someone giving it attention without actually acknowledging it.

“Penny for ‘em?” Jolie’s voice and movement of her jaw against where she’s resting it against the side of her head draws Yaz from her wandering musings.

“Huh?”

“Your thoughts, penny for your thoughts. You’re thinking so loud I can practically hear you.”

She can sense the gentle smile gracing Jolie’s face, and she mirrors it.

“Jus’ thinking about you. How happy I am right now. How much I love and appreciate you.”

Thankfully the heat from the bath has already warmed both of them, Yaz flushing at the openness and vulnerability of her statement, Jolie at being on the receiving end of it.

“You mean you still love me with my skinny leg and floppy knee,” she giggles, gesturing to her right leg which keeps floating to the top of the water, her kneecap poking through the surface of the bubbles beside Yaz. She’s finding it hard to go against the buoyancy of the water with her practically non-existent muscle tone. Dipping a hand under the water, Yaz runs it along the outside of her girlfriend’s leg, starting at her hip and working her way down, making sure to lighten her touch when she gets to the small bump where the break was, fingers barely touching the skin there. It’s definitely a little on the scrawny side, almost comically thin in comparison to her left leg, but it’s to be expected, really.

“Very much so,” Yaz replies, placing her forearm over her leg to keep it under the water. “Besides, you make up for it in other ways.” She smirks when Jolie looks confused.

“Huh?”

“Well your arms are a lot more toned,” she giggles.

“Hmm, guess they are. Just imagine when I can actually walk on two legs, I’ll be able to carry you. Although I could do that before,” she muses, and Yaz twists around to face her.

“Wait, when did you carry me? I’m pretty sure I would remember that.”

Jolie moves a hand up to cup Yaz’s cheek before she starts to explain gently. “Back in...December I think. You had that horrible nightmare, and you told me what happened with him, how you got hurt. You ended up falling asleep on me while we were sitting on the sofa and I carried you back to bed.”

“Oh,” Yaz breathes, guilt settling in the pit of her belly. “M’sorry you had to see me like that.”

“Yaz, it’s fine. We’ve arguably had to deal with a lot more problems so early in our relationship than most couples would in years, but it doesn’t mean I love you any less. I admire you for what you’ve been through and how strong and capable you are.”

The only answer Yaz can come up with is an “I love you.” But she does, she really really does. She would do anything for Jo, and vice versa.

Sensing that they need to lighten the mood a little, Jolie reaches behind Yaz and scoops up a handful of bubbles, depositing them atop her own head.

“Do you still love me with a bubble crown?”

Yaz nods, smiling.

“What if I did this?” She ventures, scooping up yet more bubbles and dumping them on Yaz’s head. Yaz raises her eyebrows at her, unimpressed but it’s hard to contain her smile when Jolie is grinning at her with nothing but pure joy.

“You’re such a child.” She shakes her head, reaching her hand up to catch some of the bubbles from Jolie’s head as they begin to slide down her face.

“But I still love you,” she adds, letting her fingers trail down Jolie's face, her neck, her chest until they come to rest on her waist. She leans in to capture Jolie in a kiss, but the blonde does at the same time and they end up clashing in a mess of noses and teeth and lips. They giggle too much to readjust themselves, so Yaz pulls away and rests her forehead against Jolie’s until they’ve both composed themselves reasonably.

“Try again?” Jolie’s voice is soft and Yaz’s insides go all melty and warm. She nods a little dopily and lets her girlfriend close the gap this time, sighing happily into the kiss.

“I’ve been thinking about doing this again since this morning,” Yaz breathes when they break apart. She can see that Jolie’s pupils are already blown wide, and she imagines hers must be too.

“Me too,” her girlfriend responds, confirming what Yaz was thinking.

They pause for a moment, simply staring at each other.

“Should we…”

“Do you want to…”

They both laugh as they speak at the same time, nerves fizzling in the air between them.

“Should we take this to bed?” Yaz asks, breaking the silence. Jo nods enthusiastically and politely averts her gaze as Yaz rises out of the tub. Wrapping herself in a towel, Yaz carefully helps Jolie up and out then passes her a towel.

* * *

The space in between getting out of the bath and getting into bed is filled with uncertainty and awkwardness, but the good kind. Two people who care about each other immensely and desperately want to look after their other half, but are a little unsure as to what to do. They both end up throwing on sleep shirts and shorts, more of a formality than anything else. It’s an unspoken agreement that it would be a little odd to just lie on the bed completely naked when they don’t know how far they’re going to take things, despite the fact that they just took a bath together. Yaz is hyper-aware of Jolie’s first time uneasiness, perhaps more so than her own.

They lie down opposite each other, and Jolie is the first to initiate things by tugging Yaz closer to her and kissing her gently. 

Unsurprisingly, things don’t stay too gentle for too long, and soon t-shirts are removed and they’re back to where they were this morning. Yaz kisses Jolie for all she’s worth, trailing affections down her jaw then her neck and her chest, finally stopping with a firm kiss right over her heart. She can feel how wildly it’s beating under her pale skin as the other woman releases small noises of pleasure.

Jolie returns the affections, periodically checking in with Yaz as she moves her kisses down her body, paying special attention to each line on her stomach. Yaz doesn’t realise she’s crying a little until Jolie stops, resting her palms on her waist and awkwardly shuffles back up the bed so she can look at Yaz properly.

“Hey, you okay?” She whispers, raising one hand to wipe away a stray tear.

“Yeah. Just … a lot. Not sad, just processing.” She lets out a small noise that’s somewhere between a cry and a laugh, and it assures Jolie that she’s okay. She smiles, leaving another gentle affection on kiss-swollen lips before trailing her hand back down Yaz’s body, the other coming up to cup her cheek. Eventually her fingers find the elasticated hem of Yaz’s pyjama shorts and she stops, fiddling the tassels between thumb and finger.

“May I?”

Yaz nods shyly but surely, raising her hips from the bed to allow Jolie to slip the fabric from her form, discarding it somewhere on the floor.

“Are you sure?” she checks again, and Yaz nods.

“I’m a bit nervous, I don’t really know what I’m doing,” Jolie admits, flirting her fingers over the jut of Yaz’s hip bone.

“That’s okay. Go with your gut, I’ll tell you if you’re doing anything wrong. And we can stop if you want to.”

Jolie nods and gives Yaz another small smile.

The moment Jolie touches her, Yaz feels her chest fill with fireworks and her eyes fill with stars. Time blurs to the point that it doesn’t even seem real, affections and touches so perfect that they’re both completely caught up in the moment, only caring about each other and nothing else. Preserved in their perfect little bubble.

Eventually, and perhaps reluctantly, they both crash back to Earth with heaving chests and broad smiles, unable to contain their elation.

“Was that okay?” Jolie asks nervously, scratching lightly at the base of Yaz’s ribcage.

“Perfect,” she replies, without even a hint of doubt. She encourages Jolie to slip under the duvet with her, immediately pulling her flush against her, not wanting to be away from her for a second.

“You were too, I feel all tingly,” Jolie mumbles sleepily, winding an arm around Yaz’s waist and nuzzling her nose into her warm neck. Yaz laughs softly, she’s not even remotely surprised that her girlfriend is already losing her battle with consciousness. It’s been a long and eventful day, and her own eyes are starting to droop.

“Goodnight, Jo,” Yaz murmurs into ruffled blonde locks, letting her eyes fall closed, feeling completely safe encased in the arms of the woman she loves.

“Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, they really make my day!
> 
> I'm going to aim to update this once a week, hopefully every Monday night (although not counting tomorrow because I cannot finish the next chapter before then) but it's just a rough guideline, not a guarantee! Anyway, enjoy, and feel free to come talk to me on tumblr (@emmyphant) or twitter (@emmyphant_) if you just want a general chat, to talk about the fic or even if you want to prompt me! See you next week :)


	17. The Noise Got Too Loud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the high of Yaz's birthday, Jolie comes crashing down on the day of her surgery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I hope you enjoy this chapter.  
> As can be expected, this chapter is pretty angsty (but don't worry, there's plenty of comfort for both Jolie and Yaz.)
> 
> Unsurprisingly, there are a fair few warnings to go along with this chapter. Hospitals, surgery, anxiety are things to consider before reading this chapter, if you want a summary instead of reading, please don't hesitate to drop me a message over on tumblr @emmyphant or twitter @emmyphant_ and I'll happily help you out!

Needless to say, their night had not been peaceful. Despite the fact that they’d fallen asleep happy and safe in each other’s arms, not even an hour later Jolie had started tossing and turning to such an extent that she’d almost managed to throw herself out of bed and Yaz had had to resort to wrapping the weighted blanket around her firmly. After two nightmares that Yaz hadn’t been able to rouse her from, she’d ended up swaddling her girlfriend like a baby and wrapping her own limbs around her in a last-ditch attempt to help her sleep.

Now, at the painfully early hour of 6:30am on a Sunday, she’s sitting on the sofa watching Jolie flap around the kitchen in an attempt to make Yaz breakfast. There’s a stubborn headache brewing behind her eyes after a night of poor sleep and stress, and she wants nothing more than to be cuddled up in bed with her girlfriend. Yaz has already offered to make the food, especially as Jo isn’t even allowed to eat anything ahead of the day in hospital. But Jolie insisted, and Yaz knows to just let her get on with it. She’s essentially going to be sofa-bound for the next week and then still extremely limited for a minimum of three more after that. She needs to do this for Yaz. However, she’s finding it harder and harder to sit still and observe while her girlfriend is clearly struggling in the kitchen. If the ever frequent noises of frustration are anything to go by, her brain is overloading, and fast.

Yaz turns around when she hears the toaster pop, but Jolie is just staring at it vacantly. Yaz carefully gets up and makes her way to the kitchen, resting a hand on the small of her back to get her attention when softly calling her name doesn’t seem to provoke any reaction. It works, although maybe too much and Jolie jumps so hard she has to grab onto the edge of the kitchen bench to stop herself falling over.

“Yaz? Why are you next to me?”

Yaz holds back a sigh. “You were making me breakfast, remember?” She prompts, gesturing at the toaster.

“Oh. Yeah. Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Yaz reassures. When her girlfriend just stares at the bread after removing it from the toaster, Yaz’s heart drops. It’s going to be a long day, and they’ve barely even begun.

“Butter and a knife, babe,” she reminds her gently.

“I know how to make toast, Yaz.” Jolie’s voice is sharp and angry, and it takes Yaz a little by surprise. Although it’s not the first time she’s seen Jolie’s temper flare in times of stress, it’s definitely something that puts her on edge. But this time around, especially, Yaz knows that she doesn’t mean it, it’s simply her brain’s way of dealing with the overload she’s currently experiencing. So she walks away without a word and sits back down on the sofa.

It takes another full ten minutes for the toast to appear in front of her, and when she takes a bite, it’s completely cold. She gives Jolie a grateful smile anyways and eats the toast while her girlfriend flaps around the kitchen, doing whatever she’s doing. Yaz takes the opportunity to text her mum to give her a bit of a forewarning, and then tidy up a bit.

“Yaz, what time is it?” Jolie’s sudden voice from beside her makes Yaz jump.

“Ten to seven,” she confirms with a glance at her watch.

“What time is your mum coming to pick us up?”

Yaz inwardly shakes her head. They’ve been over this four times since they got up. “Half past seven, so we can be at the hospital by eight.”

Jolie nods vacantly, worrying her bottom lip again. “I can’t think properly Yaz, my head is all loud. Why is my head so loud?” Her voice is getting louder and her accent thicker the more she becomes worked up. It physically pains Yaz to see how much she’s struggling right now, it settles like a lump of lead in her chest.

“Probably because you’re a bit...nervous about today, and you haven’t had your meds this morning,” she explains gently, studying the crease of her brow and the red-rimmed pools of intense green.

“Argh! I’m so stupid, how could I forget my meds? I’m so useless…” Jolie trails off as she goes to move past Yaz. However, Yaz is too fast and catches her wrist lightly, stopping her in her tracks. She settles for rocking backwards and forwards on her crutches instead.

“You can’t, remember? They would have an effect on the pain medication they’ll give you, so we have to go without for a couple of days.”

Jolie nods slowly again, continuing the rocking motion.

“C’mon baby, sit down or you’re going to wear a hole through the floor.” Yaz tugs her hand gently to encourage her and she crashes down onto the sofa next to her.

“Is it okay if I give you a hug?” Yaz asks. Normally she would just go for it, but she’s not going to take that risk today. Jo responds by leaning into Yaz, burying her face into her girlfriend’s shoulder. Yaz doesn’t point out how her t-shirt is already getting damp.

“Shh, it’s alright, it’s okay,” Yaz soothes, squeezing her tight and rocking them both gently.

“Tell me what’s going through your head right now, Jo,” Yaz implores gently, carding through her blonde waves and lightly scratching at her scalp. Jolie just gives an almighty sniff and shakes her head against Yaz.

“Yes, Jolie. Doesn’t matter what it is, if you tell me I can help you try and make sense of it.”

Jolie takes another shaky breath, and it’s an age before she manages to speak. 

“I’m really really scared about today, Yaz. And what’s going to happen afterwards … There are just so many things that I don’t know, and I don’t like not knowing.”

Yaz chooses her words as carefully as she can. “I know you don’t like not knowing, baby, but we can ask as many questions as you need to. And you’ve had plenty of meetings with your supervisor, so we know as much as we can about how the rest of your degree is going to go. The only two exams you have left are written ones, and you’ve got adjustments and accommodations in place to make sure you’re in the best position to take the exams. I know it’s far from ideal to have major surgery in the middle of exam season, but you will graduate, that’s guaranteed.”

“I don’t like that you’re worried about me,” Jolie mumbles, and Yaz looks at her in confusion.

“Don’t try and say you’re not, because you’ve called me ‘baby’ twice and you only call me that when you’re worried.”

Yaz thinks, and then realises she does actually do that. “Alright, well I can’t argue with that, because I am worried. But I think I’ve definitely earned worrying rights by this point.” Yaz smiles gently and rubs the back of her hand, but Jolie takes the initiative to lace their fingers together, squeezing gently in thanks.

“Can we go over the checklist for my bag?”

“Of course,” Yaz smiles. “Do you want to read the list, or check the stuff?”

“List,” she says decisively, getting up shakily but with determination and hopping over to where it’s stuck to the fridge with a magnet.

* * *

After having gone through the list twice, clearing up the breakfast dishes and brushing their teeth, they’re sitting on the sofa trying to relax while they wait for Najia to arrive to pick them up. Yaz is sat in one corner, legs stretched along the cushion while Jolie is settled back against her. Yaz’s arms are wrapped securely around Jolie’s middle, thumb stroking the curve of her waist while pale fingers wrap themselves around Yaz’s wrists. Although she’s finally sitting still and at least attempting to calm herself down, she’s still twitching with nervous energy every now and then, and her breathing is far from steady. Remembering something Jolie told her a few months ago when she was sick, Yaz pulls her laptop from her bag and opens up YouTube.

“What’re you doing?”

“When you were sick with your period and you couldn’t take me to the aquarium and the science museum, you said you wanted to take me there because those places make you feel calm. So, would you like an aquarium or a planetarium?”

Jolie turns around to look at her with tears in her eyes and a slight upturn to her mouth.

“Aquarium, please. You’re amazin’”

“Anything for you,” Yaz smiles, doing a quick search and pulling up a video of a tropical fish tank.

They’ve been sitting cuddled together, slightly mesmerised by the video for a while when Jolie pipes up again.

“Yaz? When we get a place together, can we get a fish tank?”

Yaz smiles, smoothing her hair down. How can she possibly deny her? Just the video is clearly having a calming effect on her.

“If the rental agreement allows it and there’s space, then absolutely, we can have a fish tank.”

“I love fish,” she smiles, settling her head back against Yaz’s shoulder again and holding the hands that are wrapped around her middle.

* * *

Yaz is confused and Jolie jumps out of her skin when the buzzer sounds significantly earlier than they were expecting. Frowning, she gives Jolie a tight squeeze to try and calm her down a little and extracts herself from the sofa, padding over to the buzzer and holding down the button.

“Hello?”

_ “Hiya sweetheart, it’s me. I know I’m a bit early, sorry!”  _ Najia’s voice comes through a little crackly, but Yaz smiles nonetheless. She guesses she’s turned up early to provide a bit more of a distraction, for which she is very grateful.

“Don’t worry about it. Come on up, I’ll leave the door unlocked so just let yourself in. You remember which number, right?”

_ “Yes, number 17, I’ll be right up.” _

Yaz lets go of the button, unlocks the front door and then sits back down on the sofa next to Jo.

“Yaz, I feel sick,” she says urgently, pulling her glasses from her face and rubbing her eyes.

“Okay.” Yaz looks at her carefully. She hasn’t mentioned feeling sick yet, and she strongly suspects it’s come on so suddenly because her mum is here and she’s realised that she’s going to have to leave soon. 

“It’s probably just anxiety but do you think you’re actually going to be?”

“I don’t know,” Jolie admits, shaking her head slowly.

“Okay, well why don’t we go and hang out by the kitchen sink, just in case?”

Jolie nods, slotting her arms into her crutches and reaching out a hand for Yaz to give her a pull up from the sofa.

They’re standing in the kitchen, Yaz encouraging Jolie to breathe deeply while she rubs her back, when Najia gives a light knock on the door before bustling into the flat. 

Yaz frowns as she watches her mum deposit their family’s slow cooker on the kitchen bench, plugging it into the wall.

“Your dinner,” Najia explains when she clocks Yaz’s confused expression. Jolie only looks up from the floor at the mention of food, and Yaz can’t help but smile at the predictability.

“Mum, you didn’t have to…”

“Yes I did, it’s one less thing for you both to think about when you get back. It’s just some vegetable soup, all you have to do is blend it and you’re good to go. Oh, I brought you some of those part-baked rolls too, and there’s more than two portions in there so you can freeze the leftovers for another day.”

Yaz moves over from Jolie and wraps her mum in a hug of thanks. She doesn’t need to say it for Najia to understand the meaning behind it. Truth be told, she’s almost as anxious as Jolie is, but today she has to quash it for her girlfriend’s sake. So she’s glad that Najia is here to look after them both.

“Jolie’s feeling a bit sick,” Yaz explains. “We think it’s anxiety though, so she’s doing her best to stay calm.”

Najia nods and Jolie gives her a weak smile.

“Would you like to get going now then? Might help if we’re not just hanging around.” Najia’s suggestion is sensible and Yaz flicks her eyes over to Jo to figure out what she wants to do. She gives the tiniest of nods and starts making her way slowly to the front door to shrug her favourite denim jacket on over her loose t-shirt. Combined with a loose pair of pale grey joggers, it should hopefully be comfy enough for when they bring her back home. She opens the front door and then stops in her tracks, realising she’s forgotten something but she can’t quite work out what. She slowly pivots herself around to face Yaz, who is holding up her trainers in one hand and her glasses in the other, with a soft smile on her face. Jolie’s face sets into a grimace with a single nod.

“Mum, would you mind taking our bags down to the car?” Yaz asks. Najia nods and scoops the two small backpacks up, giving Jolie’s shoulder a quick squeeze as she inches past her and out the door. Jolie carefully makes her way over to Yaz, who pulls her down onto the sofa and passes her her glasses then her shoe. She’ll slip the other one into a backpack when they get downstairs, she’ll need it once they come home and she won’t have the moon boot anymore.

“I’m sorry about how I’m acting this morning, I’m sure I wasn’t this bad before I went on my meds, and not when I’ve had to go without before.” Jolie’s voice is a little choked, and Yaz immediately draws her into another tight hug.

“Jo, it’s nothing to be sorry about. And yeah, you may not have behaved like this but think of the circumstances here, not only are you not able to have something to help that you’re used to having there, but you’ve also got all the hospital anxiety to deal with. We’ll get you through this, I promise.” Yaz cups her cheeks and kisses her gently to reassure her.

“Thanks. It’s just … a lot,” she admits, tucking her hair behind her ears.

“I’m sure you’ll get through it just fine. Besides, I’m just looking forward to seeing what you’re going to be like high on pain meds and anaesthetics,” Yaz teases, and Jolie pouts.

“I’ll try my best not to embarrass you in front of your mum.”

“Well as long as you don’t mention the fact that we’re moving in together or that we had sex for the first time last night and we’re all good.” Yaz grins wickedly at her girlfriend as she flushes deeply.

“That would be quite something. Although I have a feeling we’re going to regret the timing of that second decision for a while. Not sure I’ll be much fun for a bit after this.” she replies, grimacing a little.

“Nah, I don’t regret it one bit. It’ll just make it so much better next time,” Yaz winks, and Jolie giggles properly for the first time that morning.

“I love your laugh. Best sound in the universe.”

“You’re being sappy again,” Jo grins, poking her in the side.

“I was trying to make you smile, and it worked.”

“You will tell her soon though? About us moving in together?”

“Yeah, I will. I just need to find the right time to break the news, she’ll probably have a lot of questions. Understandably. So, ready to go?”

Jolie nods determinedly, accepting Yaz’s hand up from the sofa.

* * *

Upon arriving at the hospital, they’re swiftly checked in, and Yaz explains to the nurse that meets them in a consultation room Jolie’s extreme apprehension regarding the day ahead. Thankfully she’s understanding, and allows Yaz to stay right beside her when they take her down for an x-ray to confirm her broken leg has healed enough, even letting her talk to Jolie over the speaker system while she’s in there.

Now, after helping her change into a hospital gown and saying their farewells to the moon boot, they’re settled in a small room and there’s a surgeon talking Jolie through what is going to happen. She baulks a little when he pulls out a marker pen, and Yaz squeezes her hand tightly in reassurance. Najia is hovering on the other side of the bed, not quite sure what to do but sticking around, ready to intervene with extra support if needed. There’s also another patient on the other side of the dividing curtain, an older woman with a man, presumably her husband. Jo has ignored them except from giving them a cursory nod as she hopped in, but Yaz notices that they’re both watching her and Jolie with stony expressions. She really hopes that they don’t try and make conversation, and that their expression has a reason other than the fact that her and Jo are clearly a couple. The last thing they need today is a good helping of homophobia.

“What’s that for?” Jolie asks when the surgeon, Dr. Baker is his name, uncaps the pen. Thankfully he’s been fully briefed on Jolie, and is following instruction carefully. Yaz is glad of how considerate he’s being, she’s all too aware that not all doctors have such a good bedside manner.

“I’m going to mark on your leg where the incisions will be, so you know what to expect. Also makes sure my colleagues and I know what we’re doing in there,” he adds, flashing a smile for good measure.

Jolie nods and looks at Yaz for more reassurance. Yaz is all too happy to provide with another squeeze of the hand and a bright smile.

“Do you want to pull your gown up to the top of your thigh for me?”

Jolie nods and pulls it up, fussing for a moment before allowing the doctor to draw the relevant arrows on her skin. When he’s done, he informs them that they’ll have around a half-hour wait before she’ll be taken down to the prep area and she’ll have to leave Yaz behind. Yaz can  _ see _ the dread that clouds her face when he says that, exiting the room shortly after and leaving them to their own devices.

Yaz watches her carefully as she stares at the arrows on her knee, tracing the gaps between them with the tip of her finger.

“It’s goin’ t’look ‘orrible,” she mutters, brows pinching together and lips set in a firm downward turn.

Yaz sighs, looking at the pen marks. She’s going to have eight scars in total, three small ones each side of her knee and then two longer ones, vertical along her leg and above and below her kneecap. Yaz can see why she thinks that, to be completely honest she’s feeling anxious about it herself, and it isn’t even her body.

“It will for a bit, but then you’re going to look so cool. Like a proper badass. And if people ask where you got them, you can tell them it was a shark attack and laugh at their faces,” she over exaggerates her grin in the hope it’ll help ease her girlfriend’s nerves. She’s pleased when Jolie lets out a quiet laugh.

“I’m so far from a badass,” she jokes, resting her head back against the pillows and raising her eyebrows at Yaz.

“I’ve got to disagree,” Najia chips in, and now it’s Yaz’s turn to look a little surprised.

“See, two against one. You’ve gotta give in.”

Jolie shakes her head and sighs. She closes her eyes and takes a couple of deep, steadying breaths. “I just want to get it over with now,” she admits.

“I know, I can believe it,” Yaz says sympathetically. “Do you need a hug?”

Jolie nods and Yaz wastes no time in climbing onto the hospital bed beside her, tucking her girlfriend into her side and holding her tight.

Yaz holds Jolie the whole remaining time they’re waiting, wanting to provide her with as much comfort as she possibly can before she’s on her own in this. Thankfully Najia is a natural at providing distractions too, and fills them in on one of Hakim’s latest conspiracy theories while they wait. Normally it would bore Yaz out of her mind, but it works to calm both she and Jolie down; her mum knows what she’s doing. 

Unfortunately their time is cut short all too soon when two porters arrive to take Jolie away from her. Yaz starts to clamber carefully off the bed, suddenly embarrassed when she realises just how familiar their position was in front of two complete strangers. Maybe even in front of her mum, but she knows Jolie’s going to need every drop of support and encouragement she can get today.

As soon as Yaz’s feet hit the floor, slender fingers tighten around her wrist in an iron grip.

“Yaz, I can’t do it.” When Yaz turns back to look at her, her eyes are wide with fright and brimming with unshed tears, head shaking firmly.

“Yes you can. You absolutely can.”

“I can’t.” She shakes her head harder as her voice cracks.

“Hey, just look at me.” Yaz can hear her mum in the background asking if the porters can give them a moment as she cups Jolie’s cheek with one hand and interlaces their fingers properly.

“Take some deep breaths, that’s it.” Yaz rubs her thumb over the soft skin under Jolie’s eye in what should be a correct breathing pattern, and to her relief, Jolie matches it without too much difficulty.

“Well done, babe. I know this sucks, it really does, but you need this surgery. You don’t want to hop around on crutches forever, do you?”

Jolie shakes her head again, but in acceptance rather than denial.

“Exactly. I have every faith in you, all you have to do is do what they tell you to, then you’ll go to sleep, and when you wake up, me and mum’ll be there and it’ll all be done. And after that, I’ll be there for you every step of the way. I love you and you’ve got this.”

Yaz’s words are as much to calm the churning in her own gut as to soothe Jolie’s anxieties.

Jolie nods uncertainly, pulling her down for a quick kiss before she’s wheeled out of the room, leaving Yaz feeling very much like a spare part. Najia’s arm wraps around her shoulders firmly, guiding her out of the room and down the corridor.

“C’mon love, let’s go and have a sit down. She’ll be back before you know it.”

* * *

It’s been an hour, and Yaz is staring unseeingly at her laptop screen, fingers running over the keys. The dips and bumps are mesmerising, a predictable pattern amongst the craziness going on in her mind.

“Yaz. Yaz?”

“Hmm, sorry?” she drags her eyes away from the screen, the words still burned into the back of her vision.

“Put that away, studying is useless at the moment. You can’t concentrate.”

Yaz goes to protest, but one look from Najia is enough to shut down her futile comebacks.

“I know you’ve still got exams to do, but a hospital waiting room isn’t the place to study, is it?”

“No,” Yaz grumbles, crossing her arms over her chest when her mum pulls the laptop away. She can feel Najia’s eyes on her.

“I know you want to ask me something, so just ask.” Yaz surprises herself with her boldness but she’s stressed, on edge, exhausted, and she really can’t be bothered to pretend her mum isn’t watching her.

Najia’s sigh is audible but Yaz is glad when she isn’t told to watch her tone. This is one of those situations where it’s excused.

“How are you doing, mentally? Both of you. This can’t have been easy so don’t try to talk your way out of it.”

Yaz squirms under Najia’s firm voice. There’s definitely no way out of this.

“I’m worried about Jo. She was put on a waiting list for counselling right after it happened, but we still haven’t heard anything about it. She’s still going to therapy for ADHD, but that’s not what that person is trained for, she needs more help. She keeps having nightmares about it, and she’s constantly startling whenever we walk down a street. Getting her to cross a road is a whole other thing.” Yaz is annoyed to notice a crack in her voice as she speaks, even more so that her mum notices it too and pulls her in for a loose hug.

“And what about you?”

“I wasn’t the one that got hurt, mum.”

“No, you weren’t, but there’s no way you can tell me this hasn’t been hard on you too. You’ve been juggling a lot of things.”

Yaz rubs her hands over her face as she thinks. 

“It’s hard. I’d only just gotten used to being at university full time again, balancing a job and a relationship too, and then this happened. So now I have to look after her on top of it all, and it’s just a lot to balance.” Yaz takes a deep, shuddering breath at the end of her sentence, it feels good to let it all out.

“You don’t have to do everything for her though, do you?”

“No. I did more for her at the start, I haven’t the last couple of weeks though since her ribs and her arm healed up better and she got the big cast off. But now we’re back at square one again, maybe even more so. And I don’t begrudge her the help at all, I love living with her, I love  _ her, _ it just makes me so angry that one idiot in a car caused her this many problems and that it has to be this way.”

Yaz is fully ranting now, not particularly caring that everyone else in the waiting room can probably hear her. It feels good to let some of her frustrations out, she had felt too guilty about feeling like this to be able to talk to Jolie about it, not wanting to make things any harder for her girlfriend. She’s so sure it would just add insult to injury.

“Come here love, you need a hug.” Yaz gives in and lets her mum pull her close, providing the comfort and safety she so desperately needs in this moment.

“What if you just had someone to help you out with the basic stuff; cooking, cleaning, food shopping, laundry, while you’re both still doing exams and Jolie’s more dependent on you?”

“I can do all that stuff myself, mum,” Yaz protests, folding her hands over and over in her lap. She can’t help but think that if Jolie were here she’d take them into her own to calm them, calming Yaz’s mind at the same time.

“I know you  _ can,  _ I’m just saying you don’t have to. Let us help you.”

Yaz raises her gaze to look at her mum. She knows she and Jolie need that little bit of extra help, it’s just so hard to accept.

“I’ll ask her, we both have to agree to it. It’s our home.” It takes Yaz a moment to realise the words that have slipped out of her mouth, and she only registers it with the raise of her mum’s eyebrows.

“Our home?” She questions.

“Ahh.” Yaz bites the inside of her cheek in anxiety. “She, erm, she asked me yesterday to move in with her. Well technically she asked if we can find a place together when her contract is up at her current flat, but I’ve essentially moved in there already. Anyway, the point is, I said yes.” Yaz’s words tumble out of her mouth all in one go, anxious to tell her mum the whole development before she can get a word in edgeways.

“And you’re both sure about this?”

Yaz nods as firmly as she ever has. “Absolutely. We’ve already been living together for six weeks and had hardly any arguments. I’ve loved all of it.”

“Then I’m happy for you both,” Najia concludes, pulling Yaz into her again for another hug.

“Thanks mum.”

“You need to make sure to do some things for yourself though. You might think right now that you want to do everything with her, but you need some ‘you’ time, or you’ll both burn out.”

Yaz nods slowly. “Yeah. I was actually thinking of taking up judo again, there’s a school that has an eight-week taster course over the summer.”

Najia raises her eyebrows at her, and Yaz smiles. She had started judo lessons when she was six, when she had been getting into a lot of scuffles at school, so Najia and Hakim had decided to channel their young daughter’s frustrations into something more productive. She had ended up continuing it all the way through her school years, only stopping when she started university.

“I think that’s a great idea. You should do it.”

There are a few minutes of silence, and then Najia puts forward an awkward question.

“Did the decision to move in together lead to the mark on her neck?”

“Mum!”

“It’s a perfectly valid question! Besides, you’re both adults and you had the sense to cover it up yesterday.”

“Maybe,” Yaz grumbles, flushing furiously.

“Well I’m happy for you, you both deserve this.”

“Thank you, mum.”

* * *

Two hours later, Yaz enters the little side room, Najia right behind her, with a strange mixture of anxiety and relief settled in her chest. She sits down beside the bed, taking Jolie’s hand in hers and squeezing gently to alert her to her presence. The nurse had said she’s close to waking up, so Yaz tries to gently coax her along.

Dark eyelashes flutter with a sigh, and Jolie rolls her head over to face Yaz, eyes cracking open ever so slightly.

“Hey, you,” Yaz whispers, pushing hair out of Jolie’s face.

“Yaz, my Yaz,” the blonde whispers, a smile pulling the corners of her mouth up slowly.

“You did it, and I’m so proud of you.”

Jolie smiles again, eyes searching Yaz’s face.

“D’you want your glasses?”

A nod, and Yaz pulls them from her bag, gently sliding them onto Jolie’s face for her.

“Much better,” she smiles, looking up at where Najia is hovering behind her daughter.

“Yaz’s mum! You made an awesome human. Best human, this one.” Yaz laughs at Jolie’s rambling, it’s so  _ her,  _ and she’s secretly glad she’s woken up in a seemingly good mood. It bodes well.

A moment of quiet, and then;

“Yaz, did they chop my leg off?”

Yaz chuckles. “No, it’s still very much attached to you, babe.”

“But I can’t feel it,” Jolie frowns.

Yaz sighs and shakes her head, pulling back the thin hospital sheet to show her girlfriend that her leg is still definitely there. Even if she can’t see it bar her foot for the thick bandage.

“Ahh, good. I quite like my leg.” She nods, leaning back again. Yaz laughs quietly again and drops a kiss to the freckle on the heel of her hand.

Another moment of quiet.

“Yaz?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I have my custard creams now?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Anyone just want to wrap them both up in a hug? Anyway, the story is going to get lighter from here. There will still be smatterings of angst, because these two have been through a lot and that doesn't just stop being a thing, but they've got each other and their family and friends, and they're headed for happier things!
> 
> Please feel free to leave a comment, they make my day 💛
> 
> Chapter title source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MSFjYe54uv4


	18. Sunlight Comes Creeping In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jolie has finally reached her graduation, and there are celebrations all around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo, another week, another chapter! They're really on the road to good things now, enjoy this happier chapter :)
> 
> There's about a six-week time jump between the end of the last chapter and this one, just in case anyone is confused.

“Yaz, is my bowtie on straight?”

Yaz looks up from where she’s curled up on the sofa to where Jolie is hobbling into the room, one hand on the wall for balance and the other fiddling with her very crooked bowtie.

“It’s about as straight as you are,” she laughs, marking the page in her book and standing up. Padding her way over to Jolie in bare feet, the cool wood of the floor is a welcome distraction from the stifling heat of a British summer heatwave. Yaz giggles when Jolie looks at her in confusion as she adjusts the fabric for her.

“What d’you mean, as straight as me?”

Rolling her eyes, Yaz hooks her fingers into the edges of Jolie’s waistcoat and pulls her forward gently for a kiss.

“Ahh. Yup, got the joke now.” 

“You should probably finish getting dressed. As much as the pink boxer shorts with rainbow donuts on are a _great_ look on you, I’m not too sure they go with the top half.”

Jolie ducks her head down to take in her outfit. “Yeah, maybe you’re right. Give me a hand with my trousers?”

“Of course,” Yaz smiles, leading her back to the bedroom and waiting until she’s shuffled herself far back enough that her leg is fully supported.

“Do you reckon I can fit the brace under my trousers?” she asks, eyeing the contraption lying beside her on the bed with disgust.

“I don’t think so, they’re quite fitted. Plus it means if you want to take it off at any point, you can.”

Yaz cottons on to her huff of frustration easily. It’s not surprising, they’re so tuned in to each others’ small quirks and behaviours after living together for twelve weeks, it’s impossible not to.

“What’s the matter?”

“I just don’t want people to see it, I don’t want it to be in my graduation photos forever.”

Yaz breathes out softly, sitting down next to her girlfriend on the bed. “Why not, babe?”

“Because I don’t want this —“ she breaks off, gesturing aggressively to her right leg “— to be all I remember about my graduation.”

Yaz shifts and crosses her legs, adjusting the hem of her dress when it rides up. One hand resting on a bare thigh, the other hand loosely entwining with a paler one, she tries to reason through her girlfriend’s feelings.

“It’s a big thing though, and you’re going to remember whether you see the brace and your crutches in the pictures or not. But there will be so many other good memories. And if you really are concerned about it, it’s the same colour as your trousers, and it’ll probably be hidden under your gown anyway during the actual ceremony.”

Jolie nods slowly, rubbing her nose with her knuckles in thought.

“I know, I know. It just sucks.”

Yaz nods her head in agreement, thinking back to Jolie’s check-up appointment a few days earlier. They had been given the unfortunate news that things inside her knee weren’t healing as well as they had hoped they would, and the official recovery time would be prolonged significantly. She had really hoped to have the brace off in time for her graduation ceremony. In all honesty though, Yaz had sort of seen it coming. At the three week mark she was supposed to be able to bear weight, maybe even walk outside without crutches, and yet at six weeks she’s only just starting to hobble around the flat unaided, but anything more than the short distance from bathroom to sofa is still leaving her in a considerable amount of pain. While it hadn’t been explicitly stated, it wasn’t hard to guess that it would be likely to have knock-on consequences throughout her life. When they had gotten home that evening, Yaz had spent several hours holding her girlfriend close while she tried to start processing her thoughts.

“Hey, I bet nobody else will have crutches that match their outfit, will they?” Yaz makes a weak attempt to bring the conversation back on track, and thankfully, it works.

“That’s true. They’re pretty snazzy if you ask me,” she grins. She’d ended up buying her own after they’d gotten the news, their combined logic being that if she’s going to be using them for longer, she may as well have ones she actually likes. When they’d arrived yesterday, her eyes had positively lit up, and of course she’d insisted on customising them. Now, the navy blue with small bands of rainbow are almost a perfect addition for her casual suit that she’d picked out weeks ago for graduation. Even better, the pale green stripe in the rainbows almost matches the colour of Yaz’s knee-length summer dress perfectly.

“Right, c’mon then. Let’s finish getting you dressed so we can get going.”

* * *

It doesn’t take long for them to finish getting dressed, and soon enough they’re out of the flat and waiting at the bus stop to catch a bus towards the university.

“I still don’t get why we didn’t just take the car,” Jolie grumbles, flinching a little when a van goes past a bit too close to the curb. Yaz instinctively reaches for her, but she doesn’t seem too bothered by it, shaking off her tension quickly and letting it fall down the drain at the side of the road. The counselling she had finally gotten a couple of weeks earlier seems to be working, at least.

“Because if you think I was going to try and find a parking space, you must also think that pigs can fly,” Yaz replies, smoothing her hands over the skirt of her dress. Thankfully the stifling air of the heatwave is still, so she doesn’t have to constantly worry about it being blown up her legs, but she still feels self conscious. It’s been a while since she’s shown this much skin.

“You look gorgeous today,” Jolie smiles, freeing one hand to rub softly against Yaz’s arm. It’s as if she can read her mind. “Not that you don’t look gorgeous every day, you just look extra gorgeous today.”

Yaz smiles shyly, tucking her loose hair behind her ears. Combined with the heat of the sun, the flush that overtakes her body practically sets her on fire.

“Thank you. And for the record, I think you look very handsome,” Yaz gives in return. 

Now it’s Jolie’s turn to blush as the heat colours her cheeks a pale pink, the small amount of makeup she’d let Yaz apply doing little to hide it. Yaz has always had a soft spot for her girlfriend’s more androgynous fashion choices, but this particular combination of tailored slacks, crisp white shirt, waistcoat, bow tie and blazer (which is now draped over Yaz’s arm thanks to the heat) is definitely doing things for her.

“Wait. You … Y’think I’m handsome?” 

“Course I do. You’re very handsome, babe.”

Thankfully Jolie is saved from further stumbling over her words by the bus appearing at the end of the road, and Yaz steps away from her to stick her arm out and flag down the vehicle.

They board, Yaz paying for their fare while Jolie hops down the aisle to find them seats. Yaz tucks their tickets into her purse, making to follow her down the aisle, but walks straight into her where she’s apparently stopped. Peering over her shoulder, Yaz encounters her predicament in the form of a full bus.

“Oi, you’re holding the bus up, sort yourselves out so I can move!” The bus driver yelling back at them from his cab makes Yaz flinch, her shoulders tensing. Thankfully Jolie guesses her reaction without even having to turn around, and moves over to a pole, wrapping an arm around it before grabbing her crutch again.

“S’okay, I can stand if you hold onto me. Short journey anyway.”

“Are you sure?” Yaz asks, holding onto the pole with one hand herself. Unfortunately Jolie isn’t really given an opportunity to answer as the bus lurches into motion, sending her flying forwards. Yaz’s reflexes are quick and her spare hand flies out to catch her girlfriend as she falls forwards into her, but not before Jolie's full weight is put through her bad leg as she attempts to right herself, making her yelp loudly in pain.

“I’ve got you, you’re okay,” Yaz soothes, wrapping an arm securely around her waist and gripping the curve of her hip bone. She can feel Jolie’s spare hand fisting into the material at the back of her dress as the crutch dangles from her forearm and smacks the back of Yaz’s legs. Even though she knows she’ll wrinkle the material, she lets her hold on anyway. The bus makes a lot of sharp stops and starts, and Yaz winces in second hand sympathy every time she feels Jolie’s body tense against her. She’s not sure if she’s more annoyed by the driver’s poor management of the vehicle, or that nobody on the bus offers them a seat. So she just settles for holding her girlfriend firmly, comforting her every time there’s a bump or a jolt. And there are a lot.

When they get off the bus ten minutes later, Jolie doesn’t give him her usual cheery _thank you,_ and Yaz glares daggers at him. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t even consider that the bus would be that full. We should’ve driven.”

“S’fine Yaz, not your fault,” Jolie reassures through gritted teeth.

“Do you need to sit down for a moment before we find the others? We’ve got time.”

Jolie shakes her head determinedly, her mouth set into a hard line. “Nah, I’m fine. King of okay, me.” As she steps forward rather shakily, Yaz can _see_ the raise of her shoulders as she winces.

“Your body is telling me something different, Jo. Just a minute, then we can get going again. You’re going to be on your feet for a while today.” A combination of raised eyebrows, a soft smile and Yaz’s firm tone are enough to get Jolie to concede, allowing Yaz to guide her down onto the bench in the bus shelter with a relieved sigh.

“I hate this,” she grumbles, resting her head against Yaz’s shoulder.

“I know. But you’re doing amazing and I’m so proud of you and I love you.”

“Thanks, Yaz. For being here, for you being you, I mean. I love you too.”

Yaz smiles and drops a kiss to her forehead. Really she would like to kiss her properly, but sitting in the plexiglass bus shelter they’re very exposed to the world around them, so she refrains.

They sit for a couple more minutes, before Jolie glances at her watch and decides they really should get going, before they’re properly late. Reluctantly she removes her head from Yaz’s shoulder at the same time as Yaz’s arm unwinds from where it had come to settle around her waist. She mourns the contact immediately, but as soon as Yaz helps her to her feet, the same hand comes to rest at the small of her back, and she smiles.

* * *

“Yaz, Jolie!” Ryan’s voice rings out across the small square Jolie and Yaz have arrived in. 

“Hey!” Yaz raises a hand in acknowledgement and she and Jolie start making their way over slowly, carefully weaving through the crowds of people. Upon reaching him, Yaz also spots Clara, her small stature previously obscuring her from the couple’s view through the hoards of people. Grace and Graham are with them too, the former of which greets both Yaz and Jolie with a warm hug. Although Danny’s ceremony was yesterday, she’s glad that since Jolie and Ryan both studied engineering degrees and have surnames beginning with S, they’re graduating from the same ceremony. Even more so, the two tickets each student automatically gets given for graduation mean that both she and Clara are able to be there for Jolie, but also for Ryan. In all, both graduates ended up with four people there for them.

“How are you doing, love,” Grace asks, directing her question at the blonde.

“Alright, the bus ride was a bit bumpy. Can’t believe I’m graduating though!” she grins, clearly eager to move the conversation away from her state of mobility.

“Me neither,” Ryan chips in, and Clara nods too.

“How long do we have until we need to go to the gown and cap thingy?” Jolie asks, looking towards Yaz for confirmation and reassurance, like always.

“I don’t think there’s a specific time to go get your cap and gown, but you’ve got an hour until you need to meet for your ceremony, so you might want to get going.”

“Yeah, Danny had to wait a while to get his yesterday. Probably a good idea to go, you can always come back if you get through quickly,” Clara adds.

“Go on then, go with Ryan. Text me updates,” Yaz encourages, planting a kiss on Jolie’s cheek before turning her in the direction of Ryan. She doesn’t exactly need updates, but she’s well aware that Jolie has barely been anywhere without her since the accident, not counting exams and the one time she went present shopping with Najia. Even when Yaz has had work, she’s often come with and sat in the corner of the café to do the boring data entry her own job was sending her until she was fit to go back. So, telling her to text Yaz with updates gives her an excuse to seek comfort from Yaz if she needs it. Although, she’s going with Ryan, in whom Yaz has full faith to keep an eye on her. He walks slightly ahead of her as they leave, subtly clearing a path for Jolie to get through to save her the stress of trying to navigate hoards of people on crutches. Yaz takes a moment to appreciate just how amazing her friends are, and how accepting and helpful they’ve been not just since the start of her relationship with Jolie, but since the accident. She watches them go with a small smile on her face.

“Are you doing okay today, Yaz?” Clara’s voice cuts through Yaz’s daydreaming, and she turns her head towards the source of the voice.

“Erm, yeah, I guess. Just thinkin’ about things.”

Understanding as always, Clara takes hold of Yaz’s shoulders and guides her over to a bench, sitting her down.

“What’s up?” She implores. 

Yaz knows there’s no avoidance when Clara is worried about you.

“Just thinkin’ about the whole graduation thing. Trust me, I’m really happy for Jo and Ryan and Danny, but I can’t help but think that I should be graduating alongside them. It’s selfish, I know…” Yaz tails off, folding her hands in her lap. 

“Yaz, it’s not selfish. But really, there’s no set timeline for when you should go to university, when you should graduate, get married, have kids, all that stuff. You’ve just got to do things at your own pace, yeah?”

Yaz shrugs. “I guess … It’s just annoying, I was _supposed_ to be graduating this year, and it all got ruined.”

“Come here.” Clara draws Yaz in for a hug, rubbing her shoulder comfortingly. “It’s not ruined Yaz, you’re still going to graduate. But look at you, you’re in a healthy relationship, you’re moving in with your girlfriend. You’re doing well at university, you’ve got a steady job. You’re doing amazing. And Jolie, she’s got two years on us and she’s graduating at the same time. Which I still can’t get my head around, by the way.”

Yaz laughs softly. “Okay, maybe you’re right. It’s just tricky to accept sometimes. Oh, and it’s because she took a gap year after her A-levels, and then she’s on a four-year course rather than three.”

“Ahh, that makes sense. But see, you just proved my point. There’s no set timeline for these things, they happen when they happen.”

Yaz shrugs again, shaking the tension of self-doubt from her body and letting it tumble away.

“Come on then, let’s go find Grace and Graham so we can all get seats together.”

* * *

“How long did Danny’s ceremony last yesterday?” Yaz asks as casually as she can manage, shifting in her seat. The heat of the hall is oppressive, and the backs of Yaz’s legs are sticking to the wooden chair. She really hopes they won’t be stuck in here for long, the amount of people around her is getting a lot already, despite her place on the end of the row.

“Just over an hour, although looking at the programme, I think there’s less people in this one.”

“Right. They’ll be near the end though?”

Clara nods, handing over her programme. “Yeah, fairly near. So if you need a minute before we get to them, you can totally slip out,” she adds in reassurance. 

They’re cut off from their conversation by the static of a microphone as the chancellor steps up onto the small stage. Yaz settles back into her chair, determined to sit through the whole ceremony, no matter how hot and stuffy it gets.

The names start, and Yaz finds it hard to concentrate through the monotonous drone of the chancellor. She recognises a few names of people Ryan and Jolie have mentioned, and makes sure to clap a little extra for those people. Eventually, they get to the ‘S’ surnames and all four of them sit up a little straighter in anticipation.

When Ryan walks up on stage, Yaz is beaming with pride. She feels like it’s her brother up there, and it’s almost unbelievable that they’ve gotten to this point, and they’re still all friends. Glancing across as Grace and Graham, Yaz can see tears in the older woman’s eyes and she smiles fondly. Ryan has been through so much to get here, and he deserves this so much. After accepting his diploma and moving the tassel on his hat, he gives them an awkward wave, and all four wave back.

After Ryan, there are two other ‘Smiths’ before they get to Jolie, and suddenly Yaz is sweating, this time not from the heat of the hall. Even though it’s really hot in there.

“Jolene Elizabeth Smith,” the chancellor announces, and Yaz looks to the right of the stage, her heart in her mouth as she watches her girlfriend carefully make her way up the three steps onto the stage. They haven’t had a lot of practice with stairs.

 _Please don’t fall, please don’t fall, please don’t fall,_ Yaz silently wills.

She lets out her breath when Jolie makes it to the top of the stairs and carefully picks her way across the stage. She shakes hands with the chancellor, accepting her diploma and then moving the tassel to the other side of her cap and tucking her diploma between two fingers so she can hold onto her crutch again. Eyes searching the audience for her little group of spectators, Yaz raises her hand to get her attention.

Jolie’s eyes light up when she sees Yaz across the room, and she gives the most ridiculous grin and a goofy thumbs up. Now it’s Yaz’s turn to cry, heart bursting with pride and leaking out her eyes in fat, salty beads of moisture. Clara pulls her close as she grins, returning Jo’s thumbs up before she hobbles back off the stage.

Yaz couldn’t be more proud.

* * *

“This looks as good enough a spot as any,” Najia decides, dropping their bags of food on the floor and handing out the picnic blankets. Grace and Graham do the same, and Clara and Danny sort out their blanket. Najia had already insisted on providing Yaz and Jolie with food and their own blanket, something which, although she had protested, Yaz is actually quite grateful for. It meant that all she had to do was focus on getting them both to and from the university.

“Do you want to sit on a bench or on the ground? It’s not a problem either way,” Yaz reassures as she accepts their blanket from Najia.

“Ground, I want to take this brace off, it’s getting really hot and itchy under there,” she laughs, passing her crutches to Yaz before accepting a hand to get down on the floor in a fairly controlled manner, rather than getting halfway and flopping the rest of the distance. Yaz helps her slide the brace off while Hakim passes over their sandwiches and bags of crisps.

Eventually they get settled, and Yaz smiles softly at her girlfriend next to her. A perfect way to celebrate the graduation of her, Ryan and Danny. 

The whole group happily tuck into their lunches, conversation minimal as they work their way through the classic selection of picnic food. Eventually, with a defeated sigh, Jolie drapes herself halfway over Yaz, resting her head on her shoulder and slinging her legs over Yaz’s thighs and arms around her waist.

“Comfy?” Yaz asks, giggling.

“Very,” she sights, a soft smile lighting up her features.

“So, what are the three of you planning to do now that you’re out in the big wild world?” Najia asks, dusting crumbs from her hands. Yaz rolls her eyes, trust her mother to make it less than an hour after they met up with them to start asking about future plans.

“I’ve applied to quite a few engineering apprenticeships and jobs, all in Sheffield though. Just waiting to hear back, but there are definitely some I’d rather get over others,” Jolie explains, subconsciously pinching the fabric of Yaz’s dress between her fingers as she talks.

“Similar for me,” Ryan adds. “I’ve got a part-time job down at a local garage, and then I’m looking at part-time apprenticeships to get me started on that career path.”

Yaz smiles at them both, she’s so proud of them and what they’re already achieving. 

“Danny, what about you?” Najia asks politely, but Yaz can almost hear the apprehension in her tone. Having known Clara since she and Yaz became friends at age five, the young woman has become like a third daughter to her, and she’s always been a little wary of Danny and his relationship with Clara, especially after Yaz’s own relationship fallout. The older she’s gotten, the more Yaz can see it too.

“Well, I’ve actually decided to join the army.”

Yaz’s eyebrows shoot up her face at that piece of information, and she looks straight over to Clara. Danny joining the army has always been a sore spot in their relationship since they got together, in that it was something Danny had always considered, but Clara hadn’t been overly keen on. And now that he has made this decision, Yaz is certainly worried about her best friend’s thoughts on the matter.

As she glances over, Clara gives her a small shake of the head. They’ll talk about it later.

“Oh! Well, I’m sure if that’s what you want to do, it’s the best option for you,” Najia concludes, returning to pick at the bowl of fruit in front of her. Given their family history, the Khans have a fairly strong opposition to armies and soldiers.

There’s a definite air of tension in the air that wasn’t there before.

* * *

“Seriously you two, again?” Yaz rolls her eyes as she watches Ryan and Jolie sitting opposite each other. She and Jo still have their own picnic blanket at the edge of their little group, but apparently another eating competition warrants an invasion of their space.

“Please don’t tell me you two are going to be like this the whole camping trip?” Clara calls from another blanket where she’s lounging against Danny and smirking in amusement at the whole situation.

“Right Yaz, if I manage to eat more grapes in the next thirty seconds than Ryan, then I get to kiss you. Deal?” Jolie’s eyes sparkle as she grins at Yaz beside her, and Yaz really doesn’t have a choice but to play along.

“Okay. And what if you lose?”

“Erm …” Jolie chews her bottom lip in thought. “I don’t get to kiss you?”

“Fair,” Yaz shrugs, knowing that Jolie will end up kissing her anyway, regardless of whether she loses or not.

“Hang on, what do I get if I win?” Ryan interjects.

“When we go camping, you get to dump a bucket of cold seawater over her head.”

“Yaz! No fair!” Jolie whines, almost pouting.

“Yeah, but if you win, you get to do that to him, _and_ kiss me.”

“Oh, you’re on.”

“Somehow this doesn’t seem fair, but I don’t have much choice in this, do I?” Ryan asks, already starting to break the grapes away from the stalks.

“Nope! Yaz, can you time us?”

“I guess.” Yaz rolls her eyes, there’s definitely no getting out of this now.

“Okay; three, two, one, go!”

Yaz watches in amusement as the pair begin frantically shoving grapes in their mouth, trying their very best to beat their opponent. Yaz is keeping time on her phone while Clara counts Jolie’s grapes and Danny counts Ryan’s and with ten seconds to spare, they’re neck and neck at eight each.

That is, until Jolie starts to splutter and cough, very much to Yaz’s alarm. When she starts to sound like she’s choking, Ryan stops and looks at her in concern. Grace is up and over in a second, pushing Jolie forward slightly and slapping her on the back.

“There you go, deep breaths,” she encourages as soon as Jolie stops coughing. Yaz passes her glass of water and tells her off for gulping it down when it brings on another coughing fit.

“Sips, babe,” Yaz chides gently, rubbing her back for her. “God, it’s like looking after two children.”

Jolie giggles, setting her water glass down and leaning casually into Yaz. “Okay, I’m good now,” she croaks. Maybe next time we use something less … juicy.”

“Maybe, yes. We can’t have you choking on things, I do rather like having you around,” Yaz agrees, rubbing her shoulder fondly.

“Yes, not choking is ideal. Also I do _not_ enjoy losing to Ryan.”

“Mate, I think we can call this one off. You did choke on the competition material,” Ryan bargains, but Jolie is having none of it. 

“No no, you won, fair and square. Although, I still think you should kiss me, Yaz, I _did_ almost just choke to death” she grins, looking all too much like an adorable puppy that you just can’t say no to.

Yaz answers by leaning in and capturing her lips in a sweet kiss, although still brief considering how many friends and family members they’re surrounded by at this very moment. Still, it leaves both of them longing for more.

“God you two are nauseating,” Ryan grumbles, getting up and very pointedly sitting himself down on the blanket next to Sonya.

* * *

A squirrel darts across the grass in her peripheral vision as Yaz takes a deep breath, soaking in the atmosphere. Despite the slightly rough material of her slacks, Jolie’s thigh is soft beneath her head, and even softer still is her girlfriend’s gentle fingers running through her hair, lulling her into a half-slumber. The combination of the proximity of the woman she loves and the sun beating down warm on her bare legs and arms, creates a pleasant feeling of safety and something she now comes to recognise as home. To her, Jolie is home. 

She could fall asleep like this if you let her.

Unfortunately, the peaceful moment is interrupted by the vibrating of her phone from her bag. Reluctantly pushing herself up into a sitting position, she rubs the haze from her eyes as Jolie fishes her phone from her bag for her and hands it over. Frowning at the unknown number, she swipes to accept the call anyway.

“Hello, speaking?”

_“Hi there, it’s Sam Williams from the estate agent. Is this Yasmin Khan?”_

Yaz feels her heart jump in her chest. This was the flat that they most wanted to get, the closest they could get to their dream flat with their current budget. “Ah, yes that’s me.”

_“Well, I was just calling to say that you and your partner have been approved for the ground-floor, one-bedroom flat I showed you. If you want it, you can give me a ring back whenever it’s convenient and we can set a time to get all the paperwork sorted.”_

The smile that overtakes Yaz’s face is instantaneous. “Actually, she’s here right now, let me ask her.”

Pressing the phone to her shoulder, Yaz turns to face her girlfriend with sparkling eyes.

“Who is it?” Jolie stage whispers, making Yaz giggle.

“Sam, the estate agent. We got the flat we wanted.”

“The ground floor one that’s half of an old house? With the bay window?”

Yaz nods enthusiastically, now aware that the whole group is listening in on their conversation.

“Oh my god. You’re serious?”

“Deadly. Should I say yes?”

“Absolutely, say yes!”

Yaz grins and raises the phone back to her ear.

“Hi, Sam. We’d like the flat. When is the best time for us to come down and sign the papers?”

_“I’ll have to admit to you I heard that whole thing, so I’m going to imagine you’ll want to do that as soon as possible. You can’t move in until the start of August, but would you like to come down next Monday at 10am and do that?_

“That sounds great, thank you Sam.”

_“Okay, I’ll see you both then.”_

Yaz drops the phone from her ear onto the picnic blanket as soon as the estate agent disconnects the call.

“We got the flat we really wanted.” She stares at Jo in disbelief. Again.

“We did,” she responds, grinning widely. It reaches her eyes, opening her whole face into one of the happiest looks Yaz has ever seen her with. Before Yaz can even respond, Jo has reached over and pulled her into a tight hug, toppling herself backwards with the force of the hug and ending up lying flat on her back with Yaz sprawled on top of her.

“Hi,” the blonde whispers, face so close to Yaz’s that she can feel her warm breaths ghosting over her own lips.

“Hi,” she croakes back, mouth suddenly very dry. That’s quickly rectified when Jolie leans up to kiss her, their lips melding together perfectly.

“Geez guys, get a room!” Ryan yells from the picnic blanket a little distance away where he’s still sitting with Sonya. Clara throws a knotted-up crisp packet at them for good measure. It bounces off Yaz’s shoulder.

Sitting up reluctantly and pulling Jolie up after her, she grins. “Well, we sort of just did.”

The other three frown at them, and the rest of the group turn to listen to them too.

“We got approved to rent the flat we really wanted.”

“Wait, really?” Clara asks, her face almost resembling Jolie’s just minutes ago.

“Yeah … We go and sign the papers on Monday, move in the beginning of August,” Jolie explains, subtly entwining one of Yaz’s hands with hers and stroking the back of it with her thumb. It sends an involuntary shiver up Yaz’s spine, especially when her other hand comes to rest at the small of Yaz’s back.

“So does this mean my daughter is moving out for good?” Najia asks, smiling softly.

Yaz glances over at Jolie. Her face is hopeful. Somehow, Yaz feels like she won’t be moving back to her parents’ flat again.

“Yeah, mum. I’m moving out. Properly, this time.”

* * *

Lips press against lips as soon as they step through the front door, _their_ front door. 

“God your parents can talk for England,” Jolie mumbles, before pressing a searing kiss to Yaz’s jawbone, rendering her girlfriend a bit of a mess.

“Sorry, sorry. They really can’t take a hint sometimes,” Yaz apologises, kicking the door shut behind her when she realises they left it open, ironically, in their haste for some privacy.

“S’fine, we’ve got some peace and quiet now,” Jolie shrugs, capturing Yaz’s lips again. She tries to gently push Yaz back against the wall of the hallway, but, forgetting her complete and utter lack of balance, she wobbles precariously and Yaz catches her at the last second, causing them both to fall into the wall.

“Maybe we should take this to a more horizontal surface, where you’ve got less of a chance of giving yourself a concussion,” she giggles, righting them both.

“Right, yes. You do mean bed, don’t you?”

Yaz rolls her eyes for the umpteenth time that day. “Yes, I mean bed. Are you okay with that?”

“Very much so. You look impossibly attractive in that dress.” She smirks when Yaz blushes.

“Same goes for you in that suit.” Yaz takes her hand and gently leads her to the bedroom.

They rid each other of their clothes quickly until they’re left in just their underwear, breathing heavily in anticipation. Sensing they might need to slow things down a bit, given that this is the first time they’ve done this since the surgery, Yaz lays down next to Jolie and starts a gentle trail of kisses from her ear, to her jaw, and down her neck. At the same time she rests a hand on Jolie’s stomach, thumb stroking gently but not high enough to be ticklish (she hopes). When the trail of ministrations reaches Jolie’s shoulder, Yaz slows down even further and pays special attention to the dark scar marking the skin, making sure her girlfriend knows she loves every part of her, even the so-called imperfections.

She then clambers over Jolie, who protests and pulls her down halfway for a proper kiss.

“Y’alright?” They both check in at the same time, dissolving into giggles.

“Yeah,” Yaz breathes, answering first. “Very much so. You?”

“Yup. Just … “ she trails off, squirming underneath Yaz.

“What is it, babe? Is it your knee, is it hurting you?”

Jolie frowns in a specific manner that Yaz knows means she’s processing her thoughts.

“No, doesn’t hurt any more than normal. Just … it wasn’t … it wasn’t like that last time.” She ducks her head, deep red tainting her cheeks.

“Hey, look at me, baby. I don’t care how many scars you’ve got, I still love you and I still want to be with you, because you’re you.”

Jolie nods, blinking slowly like she’s trying not to cry.

“We can absolutely stop if it’s too much, but if you’re comfortable, will you let me show you what I mean by that?” Yaz implores, intertwining the fingers of her free hand with Jolie’s.

“No, I’m fine. Please, I want _you.”_

“Well it’s a good thing I want you to, isn’t it,” Yaz smiles, kissing her softly again. “Can I show you what I mean?” 

She’s answered with a firm nod and a small, brimming smile.

Yaz continues her trail of kisses over Jolie’s sternum, down her stomach, across her hipbone and finally stopping at her knee. She pays attention to each smaller scar on the sides of knees, that are already starting to fade a little. Then, moving to halfway down her shin, she kisses her way up the two longer lines standing out the most against her pale skin littered with small moles and freckles.

Eventually, they reach the elasticated waistband of Jolie’s boxers, and Yaz’ fingers curl into the material.

“May I?”

Jolie nods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> You may have noticed that we're back to an unknown final chapter number, this is mostly because I'm incapable of planning correctly and things just end up being way longer than I expect them to be. We are nearing the end of the story though.
> 
> Another thing is the time jump: I chose to skip over most of Jolie's initial recovery from surgery in this story, because I honestly just didn't want it to take over. However, I am fully planning on adding a series of one-shots to accompany this fic, including some "deleted scenes". So, if that's something you would be interested in reading and seeing how she and Yaz tackled that together, please let me know and I will absolutely consider writing a one-shot or two to cover that.
> 
> Finally, finally, I'm planning a sequel to this fic that will take us through their later lives and what they get up to! I don't really want to say much more than that so I don't spoil it, but just know that we haven't seen the last of this lot yet!
> 
> Chapter title source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WJTXDCh2YiA  
> A playlist featuring all the songs from this fic can be found here https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0T2wY8WE7DwBZGH1Ui0agQ
> 
> (ps i've started posting a series of thasmin and fam one-shots: one for every day in November, if you've interested in reading it's called "Dew Drops"!


	19. I'm No Place Without You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally in their summer break, Yaz, Jolie and friends head up to the Northumberland coast for a camping holiday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo, this fic now has no specific update schedule, it's become a case of "you get a chapter when I finish a chapter." I'm working on a lot of other stuff at the moment which is on a much tighter schedule, and I will lose my mind if this is on a schedule too.
> 
> This chapter deals with a run in with someone that sparks some memories for Yaz about her ex-boyfriend. So, if you want to avoid any of the following content, stop reading after it says "Yaz, is that you?" If you want a summary, please do not hesitate to message me on either tumblr or twitter 💛  
> \- panic attacks  
> \- past domestic abuse  
> \- homophobia  
> \- biphobia
> 
> Enjoy the chapter 💛🌸🌈

Two weeks later and the heatwave still hasn’t relented, laying heavy over Yaz’s bare shoulders as she helps Clara unload their boxes of camping supplies and backpacks of clothes from the boot of the car. She’s sweating already and flushed, although that may not be solely a result of the bright sunshine.

Jolie is sitting on the warm grass helping Ryan and Danny put up their tent. She had been wearing a thin, pale red flannel shirt in the car but she’s since tied it around her waist and is left in just a plain back tank top paired with her green shorts. Yaz watches, a little entranced, the muscles rippling in her shoulders and the flex of her arms as she slots poles into the fabric. Close to three months of using crutches has definitely given her some definition.

“Oy, stop ogling your girlfriend and help me with this heavy box,” Clara laughs, elbowing her in the side lightly.

“What, I wasn’t, no!” Yaz protests, blushing even more furiously and scowling at her best friend.

“Hey, I don’t blame you. She looks good.”

“She does,” Yaz grins, unashamedly this time.

“God, with her arms and if you keep judo up, you’re not going to be able to keep your hands off each other, are you?”

Yaz laughs, shaking her head. “Probably not, no.” There’s a smirk on her face, but also a slight look of apprehension. Now that Clara’s mentioned it, she and Jolie might have a bit more trouble keeping their hands off each during this trip than they had previously predicted.

“Ahh, well. I’m happy for you,” Clara shrugs, then heaves another large backpack from the very back of the boot. “Wow this one is heavy. Whose is it?”

Yaz squints at the bag. “Jolie’s.”

“What the hell has she got in there?”

“A few physio things, moisturising cream for the scars on her shoulder and her knee. Her crutches too, they fold up. Don’t mention it though, she’s really self-conscious about it.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t. Is she going to be okay with the whole trip though?”

Yaz shifts a few more things from the car again, adding to the increasing pile of stuff on the ground. It takes her a moment to answer.

“Should be. She’s been working really hard on her recovery, not perfect but we’re getting there. Just … be there for us if we need it?”

“Of course,” Clara smiles, opting for a pat to Yaz’s shoulder over their usual hug thanks to the oppressive heat. Although, the gentle sea breeze is providing at least some relief.

Dropping the last of the stuff to the top of the pile, Yaz wipes her sweaty palms on the back of her shorts and wanders over to where her girlfriend is bum-shuffling around the perimeter of the now-erected tent, hammering the metal pegs into the ground. Sinking to her knees behind Jolie, she loosely slings her arms around her shoulders and presses a kiss to her cheek. Jolie hums in approval, dropping the mallet she was holding and raises a hand to cup Yaz’s cheek.

“All unpacked?” She asks, happily leaning into Yaz’s front. 

“Yeah, just gotta get it all into the tent now.” Yaz chuckles as Jolie groans theatrically.

“S’fine, why don’t you go with Clara down to the little shop to find something for us all to eat? I can manage the rest of the unpacking with the boys, and it gives you a chance to stretch your legs.”

Jolie scrunches her face up in thought at Yaz’s suggestion.

“Are you sure, will they not think it’s rude if I just disappear and not help?”

“Not at all, babe. And we need something to eat for tonight anyway, we’ve got to make sure Ryan’s fed if we want to keep our sanity. And our secret stash of snacks,” she giggles, remembering the custard creams Jolie has hidden in her backpack.

“Okay. Were my crutches easy to get to?”

“Yeah, they’re still folded up in your bag but we’ve dumped everything out on the grass and I’ve left the big brace on the back seat. You want them?”

Jolie nods, dusting her hands on her khaki-green shorts and holding one out for Yaz, who helps her to her feet. 

“I’m fine with just this brace, it’s way too hot for the other one,” she smiles, gesturing to the significantly smaller black support wrapped around her knee. “One crutch though, bit stiff from sitting in the car.”

“Of course,” Yaz replies, making to turn away but squeaking in surprise when Jolie tugs her back towards her, kissing her lightly but pulling her in for a crushing hug. When she pulls back, she’s grinning like crazy, and Yaz can’t help but laugh in amusement at her sudden change in mood.

“What was that for?”

“I’m excited.”

Yaz nods in agreement. It finally feels like they’re breaking out of the storm clouds that have hung over them for months, in which lightning has tried to strike them down countless times. But they’ve stuck together. They’ve prevailed, despite every single hailstone the storm has pelted them with. And now, the sun is peeking through the dark clouds and showing them the way to a happier, brighter, hopeful future. There are so many things for them to be excited about.

And Yaz can’t wait.

* * *

“Jo, no! Don’t eat that! It’s too h—“ 

“Ahh! Ahh! Too hot!” Jolie shouts around her mouthful of bubbling toasted marshmallow, looking at Yaz in pure panic. Yaz grabs a napkin and holds it in front of Jolie’s mouth to let her spit out the scalding sugary treat. She does and everyone else grimaces, Ryan passing over Jolie’s metal water bottle which she gulps down eagerly. 

“Why’s tha’ s’hot? No’ norma’y tha’ hot,” she mumbles around her burnt tongue, eyes watering.

“Because you ate it straight off the campfire, you goon!” Yaz teases, rubbing Jolie’s back in sympathy when her face drops. “Wait, babe, have you ever toasted marshmallows before?”

Jolie nods, taking another generous sip of water to try and ease the burning in her mouth. “Of course, I used to do it with my granny all the time. But I swear they were never that hot.”

“You’ve gotta wait until they’ve stopped, you know, bubbling,” Ryan teases, sticking another marshmallow on the end of his stick and holding it over the fire.

“Huh. I guess she used to just give me them when they had cooled down enough. I’ve never had the best self control when it comes to sugar,” she shrugs, plucking another giant marshmallow from the bag at her feet. Yaz watches her carefully as she holds the marshmallow over the fire, slowly twisting the stick to get an even toasting on all sides.

When it’s finished toasting, Jolie looks at Yaz expectantly. “Can you hold onto mine until it’s cool enough, please?” She asks sweetly, and Yaz nods, plucking the stick out of her hands and replacing it with her own half-toasted marshmallow.

“Will you finish toasting mine for me while yours cools?”

“Sure,” Jolie nods, holding it over the fire.

The five of them quickly work their way through the two bags of jumbo marshmallows, interspersed with light conversation and finalising some smaller details and plans of their trip.

Eventually, Clara leans against Danny with a defeated groan. “Okay, sugar overload. I need my bed,” she announces, smoothing her hands over her stomach.

Yaz is definitely feeling the sugar coma too, and combined with the long drive and subconsciously watching out for Jolie all day, she’s exhausted. In fact, she has no doubt that if she were to use Jo’s shoulder as a pillow right now, she would be out like a light.

“Me too,” she adds, and Jolie concurs with a “me three.”

After a quick trip to the shower block to clean their teeth and go to the toilet, everyone is back inside the tent and their respective pods: Jolie and Yaz on the right, Clara and Danny on the left and Ryan in the pod on the back. Despite the heat of the day, the outside temperature has dropped with the arrival of the dark and both women have opted for long pyjamas and are snug in their sleeping bags, lying as close as they can on the foam mat.

“Yaz,” Jolie whispers, pale fingers sticking out the top of her sleeping bag and playing with a loose thread.

“Yeah?”

“Was it too much? When I were talking about my granny?”

Yaz shifts in her sleeping bag. “No, not at all babe. You can talk about her whenever you want, you know that.”

Jolie nods slowly, focusing all her attention on the loose thread she’s wrapping tightly around her finger, the tip going white as she starts to cut off the circulation. “It didn’t bring the mood down at all?”

Yaz shakes her head, and then frowns. “No, it didn’t — Wait, why would you think it would bring the mood down?”

Jolie shakes her head rapidly, retreating in on herself. Yaz notices her eyes have gone shiny in the light of their tiny camping lantern before she squeezes them shut.

Yaz tentatively shuffles a little bit closer, wriggling her own hand out of her sleeping bag to stroke her thumb over the back of Jolie’s still exposed hand. “Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but I’m always here to listen if you want to, yeah?”

Jolie gives a miniscule nod and wriggles over the rest of the distance between them, seeking comfort. It’s a little tricky with both of them in their own sleeping bags, but Yaz unzips hers a bit and manages to extract her other arm, wrapping them both around Jolie securely and holding her tight. It’s at this moment that she concludes sleeping next to her properly is definitely a lot better than being separated, even if it’s only by two layers of sleeping bag.

Twenty minutes later, neither of them are asleep, Jolie’s breathing and soft sniffles against Yaz’s skin where she’s buried her face in the crook of her neck giving her away.

“We used to toast marshmallows a lot, we had an open wood fire in the house. Just brings back a lot of memories,” she suddenly mumbles in explanation. Yaz sighs softly, her breath tickling the shortest hairs on the back of Jolie’s neck. She’s not really sure what to say in response so she just squeezes her tighter, dropping a kiss to the part in her hair. She can feel Jolie’s face getting damp against her neck but she ignores it, whispering condolences and rubbing her back through the sleeping bag until she drops off.

* * *

“Woah, that’s cool,” Jolie breathes as the five of them step off the bus, turning to look back down the road the bus just took. To their left is a large field and the North Sea, to the right is a row of cottages, and right in front of them is the towering Bamburgh Castle. It’s made all the more impressive by the fact that it’s sat atop a huge cliff, backlit by the morning sun.

“Right?” Ryan enthuses, stepping off the bus and standing behind her and Yaz. 

“Did you know that there’s been some sort of fortress or castle on this site since the Roman times?” Jolie pipes up, slotting her hand into Yaz’s. “Although this current castle was mostly built in the 19th century.”

“Are you really going to be spouting out random useless facts all day?” Danny asks from in front of them, turning his head with a slight frown on his face.

“Well, it’s too expensive to actually get into the castle, and I read a ton on the car journey up here. So yeah, pretty much! Consider me your own personal tour guide!”

“You know we’ve all been here before. Multiple times,” he retorts, and Yaz shoots him a glare. Jolie is just excited about the day ahead, and shooting down her enthusiasm isn’t a move she particularly likes.

“My memory is terrible when it comes to history, I’ll take all the facts I can get,” Ryan chips in, and Yaz shoots him a grateful smile. She’s noticed that something’s been a bit off with Danny and Clara since they set off on their drive earlier this morning, their usual chatter replaced with shorter, more snappy remarks. Of course it could be to do with Danny’s imminent move to the army, but they hadn’t been this snippy with each other since they had announced the news, only in the last couple of days. As Clara’s best friend, Yaz knows she should talk to her about it, but it’s been surprisingly difficult to find a quiet moment. As such, Yaz is yet to talk to her.

“Right, should we head into the town first and have a look around and then come back to the castle for lunch in the tearooms?” Yaz suggests sensibly, in an effort to break the tension. Everyone concurs, and the small group turn around to head away from the castle and towards the town centre that, according to the lady at the campsite, has a market on today.

On the walk into town, Ryan falls into step beside Yaz and Jolie, while Clara and Danny walk behind them. Yaz is pleased to notice that there’s only a slight limp to Jolie’s step today; she still has one crutch folded up in her backpack and she’s wearing the smaller of the two braces, but they’re able to comfortably hold hands without Yaz having to worry too much about setting her off-balance, or Jolie worrying too much about being overly reliant on Yaz. It’s nice, and the closest to normal they’ve managed to walk anywhere in months.

The group wander around the town centre together and browse the small shops and the market. It’s busy enough that it creates a pleasant atmosphere, but not too busy that it sets anyone on edge. Yaz and Jolie end up buying a small snow-globe with the castle inside to decorate their new flat with, while Ryan buys himself a ridiculous puffin figurine and Clara gets strangely excited over locally made chutneys.

Eventually, growing bored of the market, they make their way back towards the castle in search of the tearooms. Upon reaching the castle, Jolie stops abruptly at the base of the hill and gulps audibly, craning her neck to see the top.

“S’a steep walk,” she murmurs nervously at Yaz, chewing her bottom lip.

“I’ll give you an arm, and we can go slowly. But you can do this, I’m sure,” Yaz reassures, looping an arm into hers.

Together they make sure but slow progress up the hill, until Jolie asks to stop for a small ‘viewpoint’ halfway up. Yaz sees right through it considering the view will be much better at the top. 

“You okay, babe?” She checks in, using her free hand to rub comfortingly at Jolie’s forearm. She grits her teeth, wobbling a little on her feet.

“Struggling,” she admits, gripping Yaz’s arm a little tighter.

“Do you need your crutch?” 

Jolie nods regrettably, using Yaz’s arm for support as she lowers herself to sit on the low stone wall along the edge of the path. 

“S’fine, you’ve done really well so far today. Especially considering how stiff you were yesterday from sitting in the car.”

Jolie still looks disappointed, so Yaz crouches down in front of her and takes her hands gently.

“Jolie, you’ve not walked anywhere without some sort of support for three months, and two months ago someone literally opened up your knee and moved bits around to repair it. You’re completely entitled to need a bit of help,” Yaz reasons.

“Yeah. It’s just … frustrating, you know?”

Yaz nods in understanding, it’s hard to make progress when you feel like you’re taking five steps forward and three steps back.

“I know. But I’m proud of you no matter what,” she shrugs, as Jolie swings off her backpack and pulls her crutch out. Yaz straightens back up as Jolie unfolds it then gives it a shake to make sure nothing is loose, before extending a hand to Yaz for a pull up to her feet.

Eventually they make it to the top, glad to find that the others have waited for them and together they head into the tea rooms.

Inside, all of them unable to make a decision between the multitude of options in front of them, they opt to order a meal each and then leave it all in the middle of the table, sharing and picking from each plate as they eat. It works surprisingly well, the only argument being (predictably) between Ryan and Jolie over the last triangle of the egg sandwich.

“Are you two going to behave like bickering siblings this entire holiday?” Clara teases from the other side of the table with a single raised eyebrow.

“I will be if he doesn’t give me the last sandwich!” Jolie whines, reaching for it before Yaz slaps her hand away.

“Yaz! Hey!”

“Ryan can have the sandwich, I’ve got to sleep next to you, and I’m not having your eggy breath all over my face thank you,” Yaz smirks, giggling at Jolie’s offended expression.

Ryan crows in glee, snatching the last triangle and stuffing it in his mouth whole.

“Ryan just doesn’t have anyone to worry about his eggy breath,” Yaz adds, unable to hide her triumphant expression.

“Ahh, mate, that was a low blow,” he pouts, crossing his arms and huffing indignantly, indeed, like a small child.

“You know I love you really, Ry.”

“True Yaz, true. But I will get you back.”

* * *

“Yaz, I’m not entirely sure we thought this through,” Jolie muses, standing at the end of the wooden boardwalk. After lunch, the group had collectively decided that some much-needed beach time was in order, so they had come down from the top of the cliff on which the castle is perched and located an access point to the beach. A wooden boardwalk had gotten them through the dunes without issue, but now faced with a whole lot of soft sand, Yaz realises they definitely hadn’t.

At least the tide is out, providing them with just as much hard sand as soft. It’s more a matter of getting Jolie over the soft sand, something which she definitely cannot walk on.

“Hmm, maybe we didn’t.”

Yaz chews her bottom lip in thought, surveying the situation.

“Do you reckon I could piggy-back you to the picnic blanket?” She asks, nodding her head towards where the others are already spreading out blankets at the very edge of the soft sand.

Jolie looks her up and down unashamedly, and Yaz flushes. “Probably, yeah,” she agrees, already folding her crutch up to put it back in her backpack.

“Only one way to find out,” Yaz shrugs, standing in front of Jolie and catching her easily when she clumsily jumps up onto her back.

The walk across to the blankets is a little precarious, but they make it and Yaz helps her girlfriend carefully lower herself to the blanket. She sinks down beside her, pulling their water bottles from her backpack and pulling a baseball cap down to shade her eyes. The sun is out in full force and reflecting off the glassy surface of the wet sand and then the sea further out, glaring harshly. The wind is quite strong too, Jolie’s short hair flying all around her head while Yaz’s is fairly well contained in her braid and under her hat. Yaz finds she doesn’t mind too, it’s a welcome release from the oppressive heat, and Jolie does tend to look extra cute and soft when her hair is all messed up.

Yaz watches as Jolie unwraps the support from her knee, sighing happily as she discards it to one side.

“Getting really sweaty under there,” she grins, bending it a little experimentally until she finds herself a comfortable position.

“Here, put some more suncream on. The support has probably rubbed most of it off anyway, and scar tissue burns faster, remember.”

Jolie nods, happily accepting the tube of suncream Yaz offers her and proceeding to squeeze way too much on her leg.

They pass the good part of two hours chatting and sunbathing, Ryan and Clara taking plenty of opportunities to recount Yaz’s more embarrassing childhood stories, much to her chagrin. Thankfully, Jolie saves her from further teasing by announcing she fancies a paddle in the sea, looking at Yaz with big, pleading eyes.

“Does this mean you want my arm?” Yaz teases, grinning at her.

“Please.”

“C’mon then.”

Yaz helps Jolie to her feet and then carefully over the large expanse of wet sand until they reach the shallows. It’s an exceptionally flat beach, the water staying shallow a decent way out before it goes above knee level, meaning Jolie can paddle safely without worrying about any waves knocking her off balance.

The water is freezing, it is the North Sea after all, but it’s so hot outside that none of the group mind, enjoying the stark temperature difference of the water. There are several families and young children dotted up and down the shoreline, also making the most of the rare summer sun. It’s a pleasant and relaxed atmosphere, just the break that all five of them need from the real world.

Behind where Yaz and Jolie have wandered further into the water, Ryan is talking to a family with a couple of pre-teen children. Surprisingly fast, he’s armed with a plastic bucket full of water and is creeping up slowly behind the completely oblivious couple.

“Ahh!”

Both women shriek loudly as they’re completely doused in freezing cold, salty water.

“Ryan!” Yaz yells, twisting towards him as far as she can without unbalancing her girlfriend, shooting him a mutinous glare. He’s doubled over laughing, the bucket long-since abandoned and bobbing around in the shallow water.

“What was that for?”

“Well, I was getting Jolie for losing that grape-eating competition. You just so happened to be in the firing line, so it’s payback for the comment earlier.”

“Well,” Jolie starts, raising her arms to wring out her dripping hair, “you’ve certainly succeeded.”

Yaz, on the other hand, is too busy watching Clara. She’s pointing at the bucket and looking at the owner, a girl of about twelve, who nods. Clara scoops the bucket up, filling it with water and creeping up behind Ryan.

Jolie has noticed what he’s up to now, and is trying, unsuccessfully, to hide her snickers behind her palm.

“Guys, what are you lau- Hey!”

Now, it’s the girls’ turn to burst into laughter.

“Thanks Clara,” Yaz splutters, clutching at her stomach as she laughs, tears streaming down her face.

“Now you’re even.”

* * *

“Yaz, is that you?”

Yaz freezes in her tracks, cold dread immediately creeping through her body. That voice. She knows that voice. What’s he doing here?

Ignore him, ignore him and walk away. 

She does just that, making a beeline for the safety beacon that is Jolie, currently studying the shelves of tinned beans. She’s already breathing too fast, her legs carrying her faster and faster until she all but crashes into Jolie.

“Hey babe, did you get the bisc— Yaz? Are you alright?” Jolie’s face goes from happy to complete concern in seconds when she registers the iron grip Yaz has on her upper arm and her rapid breathing.

“Where are the others?” she blurts out, eyes darting everywhere but behind her.

“I don’t — I don’t know. Yaz, I think we need to get you out of here,” she decides, putting the beans she was holding back on the shelf and gently removing Yaz’s grip from her bicep. She uses the arm that isn’t holding a crutch to curl protectively around Yaz’s shoulders, guiding her in the direction of the door of the shop. Unfortunately, that happens to be right into the path of the person she’s trying to get away from.

“Yaz! I thought that was you. How are you doing?” He asks brightly, apparently not noticing Yaz’s panicked state or completely disregarding it, sticking his hand out for her to shake. Yaz physically recoils from the action, pressing herself further into Jolie and resisting the urge to hide her face in her shoulder. She wants to bolt, to run right out the front door of the shop, she can  _ see _ it, but her knees are weak and her legs remain rooted to the spot.

“Sorry, who are you?” Jolie asks, her tone polite enough but cold; whoever this is has clearly caused her girlfriend a lot of distress at some point or another in her life, so she’s not about to be nice to him.

“Jackson. Her ex’s brother,” he shrugs, like it’s no big deal. Yaz wants to tear her eyes away from the smirk on his face, but she can’t no matter how hard she tries. She feels Jolie’s breath against her forehead as she gives a soft “oh” of realisation.

“Ahh, well then. I really don’t think Yaz wants to speak to you right now, so I’m asking you nicely to leave.” His smirk is almost a sneer, and Yaz feels herself start to break out in a cold sweat. She wants out of here, right now, but her legs remain stubbornly still.

“And who are you to tell me that? I’ve certainly never met you before.”

Yaz feels Jolie stiffen beside her. She hates how much of an effect he’s having on both of them, but she still can’t understand why he’s here, of all places.

“Her girlfriend,” she glowers, but Yaz can feel her starting to shake a little bit. “And you need to leave us alone.”

Jackson practically cackles with laughter. “Her girlfriend! So you broke up with my brother because you like girls? Were you just using him as some sick experiment? You do realise she’s been with a guy, and you still want a part in that?” He scoffs, a dangerous hint of anger creeping into his tone.

Yaz shakes her head firmly. “No — that wasn’t — I mean,” she splutters, panic rising through her in the form of her stomach jumping up to take an uncomfortable residence in her throat. She swallows against it, but it won’t budge.

“Oh shit.”

Yaz’s head whips around at the sound of Clara’s voice behind her, and she could cry with relief when she sees her and the two boys standing behind them.

“C’mon.” She steps forward, abandoning her basket into Danny’s hands and also wrapping her arm around Yaz’s shoulders. Together they practically push Yaz out of the shop, Danny and Ryan staying behind to put Owen in his place.

Outside, Yaz collapses onto a bench, wrapping her arms around her churning stomach and doubling herself over. Her whole body feels numb, she’s definitely breathing too fast and she’s choking on the sobs that shake her whole self. Vaguely aware of her surroundings, she can feel the bench shift a little as Jolie sits down next to her but not touching her, and in her peripheral vision she can just about see Clara crouching down in front of her. At least she hopes it’s Clara, the figure is blurry. She flinches away as the person shifts closer to her, breathing faster.

“Yaz, it’s just me, it’s Clara. Me and Jolie are with you, we’ve got you sitting on a bench round the corner from the shop. Danny and Ryan are inside with him, he doesn’t know where you are, okay?”

Yaz nods slowly, trying to process the information but it’s a struggle.

“Yaz, you’re starting to hyperventilate, I need you to try and breathe deeply for me. I’m going to hold your hands, Jolie’s going to rub your back.”

Yaz still flinches when Clara takes her hands but focuses on the calming nature of the pressure her best friend’s hands provide. She concentrates really really hard on Clara’s counting and the motion of Jolie’s hand against her back in time to bring her breaths back to something resembling normal.

“Well done, Yaz. I know you’re not as calm as you normally are, but I think it would be better if we could walk back to the campsite so we have some privacy. Do you think you can do that?”

Yaz nods carefully, her brain already starting to pound with the signature post-panic attack headache. “Can you hold onto me? Both of you?” She asks tentatively, almost in a whisper

“Of course we can,” Jolie replies softly, standing herself up from the bench and reaching her free hand out for Yaz to take. She does, and accepts her girlfriend’s help to stand on wobbly legs before Jolie wraps the arm around her waist, holding on tightly. While Clara is texting the boys to let them know they’re walking Yaz back to the tent, they start to slowly move in small, tentative steps, both to accommodate Jolie’s compromised balance from supporting Yaz, and also Yaz’s shaky legs. Clara catches up to them easily, taking Yaz’s spare hand in hers and squeezing tightly, reassuringly.

* * *

Back at the tent, Jolie sits on the floor, her hand comfortingly carding through Yaz’s messy hair while she sits curled up in her lap. It’s only been about half an hour since the incident, the boys got back about ten minutes ago, having apparently given Jackson a stern talking to, and Yaz is still shaking lightly despite the firm hold Jolie has on her.

“I know we were going to head out to eat tonight, but we should probably stay in and cook instead, I don’t want to force Yaz to go out and sit somewhere busy and noisy.” Clara’s voice comes through the thin fabric of their tent, and Jolie feels Yaz smile against where her head is resting on her chest. Jolie would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little bit jealous of their friendship, moreso how long they’ve been friends and how many memories they’ve created together . She knows that Yaz’s friendship group have one hundred per-cent embraced her as one of their own, and that she couldn’t be more grateful for, but sometimes she can find herself feeling a little left out when they reminisce about their childhood antics. But, then again, the only way she’s going to build those memories is through spending time with them, such as right now.

“Sure, sounds good. We could make hotdogs?” Ryan suggests, and Jolie’s ears perk up at the mention of one of her favourite junk foods.

“Hot dogs, Yaz!” she whispers excitedly, and Yaz chuckles against her skin.

“Your friends are amazing,” she decides, kissing Yaz’s head.

“Our friends, babe,” she corrects gently, and Jolie smiles softly, resting her chin atop Yaz’s head.

“Thanks for looking after me,” she mumbles, sitting herself up slightly and happily accepting the water bottle Jolie hands her.

“It’s no big thing, Yaz.”

Yaz shakes her head, letting out a long breath after she finishes downing a considerable amount of water. “You had no idea who he was, if he was dangerous, but you still stood up to him for me. Why?”

Jolie sighs, gently shifting Yaz’s weight in her lap as it begins to press uncomfortably against her knee.

“It’s simple, Yaz. I love you, I’ll always look after you.”

“Always?” Yaz asks, raising her eyebrows and tracing her fingers along the hem of Jolie’s shorts.

“Always.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The eagle-eyed amongst you will have noticed that we now have a final chapter count. I won't deviate from this one, I swear (although maybe not really, who knows). Anyway I hope you enjoyed the new chapter, I'll see you here when I get the next one done (although I do have a series of one-shots going called "Dew Drops" that's being updated every day in November).
> 
> Also also, the next chapter is Jolie's birthday, so if there's anything you think anyone should get her (not just Yaz), please feel free to give me ideas, 'cause I'm struggling!
> 
> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave a comment, they make my day. Come chat on tumblr or twitter if you feel so inclined!
> 
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_


	20. We're Two Hands Meant to Shape the Land

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang celebrate Jolie's birthday in the middle of their camping trip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh this took so long to get out and I don't feel like it's my best writing, but enjoy?? It's extra soft, so I guess that makes up for it :)

The following morning, Yaz is awoken by a not so gentle shaking of her shoulder and she groans into her pillow. She can feel Jolie pressed up against her back (they had ended up unzipping their sleeping bags to create one large duvet) and her breath is hot against the shell of her ear. If she hadn’t been woken up so early, she might have reacted to the situation a little differently. Alas, sleep grumpiness is on her side this morning.

“Yaz! Yaz, are you awake?”

“No,” she grumbles, pushing away loose hair that sticks to her face and then burrowing further into her pillow.

“But Yaz! It’s my birthday,” she reasons, pushing herself up on one arm and leaning partially over her girlfriend, grinning excitedly. Yaz bites back a sigh. Jolie had warned her that she gets particularly excitable on her birthday, but Yaz hadn’t quite been expecting this level of hyperactivity so early in the morning.

“Early,” she mumbles, rolling over and pressing her face into Jolie’s neck.

“I’ll cuddle you until you wake up then, hmm?”

“Mmhmm. Cuddles with my Jo,” she smiles into her girlfriend’s warm skin, sighing happily when Jolie wraps her arms around her and tugs her flush against her.

“You’re a softie you,” Jolie teases.

“No, you’re the softie.”

* * *

An hour later, Yaz is awake properly and sitting stretched out in their pod, using her backpack as a backrest with Jolie’s legs draped over hers, their lips melded together in a passionate kiss.

Feeling the need for some oxygen at this point, she pulls back gently, cupping Jolie’s cheeks as they both breathe heavily, cheeks flushed and lips bee-stung.

“Alright?” The blonde checks in, flirting her fingers over the expanse of Yaz’s stomach under her pyjama top.

“Yeah,” she gulps, dropping her hands and holding onto Jolie’s waist. “It’s just, I can hear the others up and about, and there were a few gifts I wanted to give you before we do gift giving properly with everyone else.”

“Okayyyy … should I be scared by this, did you buy me something risqué?” She smirks, continuing the movement of her hands against warm skin.

“No, I didn’t. We’ll have to save more risqué activities for when we get home.”

“Ooh, you mean shenanigans,” she grins, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Yes, but there will be none if you keep using the term ‘shenanigans.’”

“You love me really.”

“I do, now shush so I can give you these presents,” Yaz chides with a soft smile, leaning over to root through her bag and pull out the small selection of gifts.

“Close your eyes,” Yaz commands, and Jolie obliges happily. Yaz drops the packages into her lap and she opens her eyes, a shy smile on her face. There are three wrapped packages, and a sheet of A5 paper.

Jolie picks up the paper first, turning it over in slender fingers and looking down at the photograph printed on it, then up with a confused expression at Yaz.

“That one was a bit too big to bring with us, but it’s for our new flat. It’s called a command centre, have you heard of them before?” Yaz asks, and Jolie shakes her head with a curious glint to her eyes.

“So it has a plain whiteboard on the left there to jot down notes and messages, and then a monthly calendar in the middle. Then along the bottom there are hooks to hang keys, my student ID, your work ID. Then on the right there’s another small whiteboard, and a basket to drop random bits and pieces, whatever we want to use it for.”

Yaz looks at Jolie nervously as she finishes explaining. She needn’t have worried.

“Yaz, this is amazing! Thank you!” She grins, kissing Yaz again.

“Really?”

“Yes, it’s perfect! This is going to help so much, really.”

Yaz smiles and rubs her shoulder affectionately. “You want to go ahead and open the others then?”

Jolie nods and tears into the wrapping eagerly, much akin to a small child on Christmas. The other three presents contain a fidget cube, noise-dampening ear plugs, and a jumbo pack of custard creams.

“Babe…” she starts, leaning her head against Yaz’s.

“Are they okay? Your other presents aren’t ADHD related, but I’d noticed some things that you were struggling with and I wanted to get you some stuff to help out.”

Jolie nods, sniffing against shiny eyes. “They’re perfect. They’re so thoughtful Yaz, nobody’s been that thoughtful with gifts for me in a long time.”

“I’m glad you like them,” she affirms, reaching a hand up and stroking the curve of her jaw with her thumb.

“I do. I’m properly nervous about leaving school and that support system I’ve always had, but these presents and just having you in general are going to make it so much easier.”

Yaz softens completely, leaning forward to kiss her soundly, playing with soft strands of blonde hair as they meld their mouths together in a well-practiced dance. Unfortunately, they’re rudely interrupted by the sound of the zipper on their pod, and both women turn to glare at the brunette who pokes her head through the gap.

“Oi, lovebirds! We need the birthday girl out here for presents!” Clara grins. Jolie mischievously leans forward and captures Yaz in another kiss, Yaz giggling into her mouth.

“Eww,” Clara complains, good-naturedly.

“Well you did interrupt us.”

“Fair enough. But come on, we all want to give you your presents so we can get going to Alnwick and have brunch at a decent hour.” 

Clara hurries them along, helping Jolie to her feet and out the front of the tent to where they have their foldout camping table and chairs set up, Yaz following behind them with the last of Jolie’s gifts.

Both women gasp when they step out of the tent and take in the setup. There are balloons tied to the tent poles and one of the chairs at the table (Ryan holding onto it just in case it blows away). Stuck to the side of the car is a birthday banner, and in the middle of the table is a pile of gifts and a small, homemade cake with a number two and a number three candle stuck in it.

“Yaz, did you…”

Yaz shakes her head and wraps her arm around Jolie’s waist. “I didn’t know anything about this, babe,” she whispers, pulling her girlfriend into a hug when she begins to well up.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s alright,” she reassures, letting Jolie hide her emotions against Yaz until she straightens up again of her own accord.

“Okay?”

“Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed. Come on, I want that cake,” she smiles, and Yaz laughs. She knows she must be okay if she is thinking about food. She walks her over to the table, Jolie sitting down in the balloon-adorned chair and Yaz settling down beside her.

The group immediately starts up a chorus of  _ Happy Birthday  _ and Jolie sits awkwardly in her chair, blushing while they sing. She closes her eyes when she makes a wish, before leaning back with a huge grin on her face.

“Make a good wish?” Yaz asks, squeezing her hand under the table.

“Yeah. Not telling you what it is though, or it might not come true.”

“Come on! Presents!” Clara interrupts them once again, and Jolie sits up further in her chair in anticipation.

“You got me presents?”

“Of course we did! Okay, these two are from me and Danny.” Clara hands over the two presents wrapped in plain blue paper.

Jolie rips into the first present with enthusiasm, revealing a pale denim material. She pulls it further out of the material to reveal a pair of dungaree shorts, and a grin breaks out across her face.

“How did you know I were wanting these?”

“Little birdie might have told me,” she grins, nodding her head at Yaz.

“Thank you, you two. Really, they’re amazing, I’ve been wanting a pair of these for ages.”

Both Clara and Danny smile at her excitement as she tears into the wrapping of the next present.

“A  _ Wreck Your Journal? _ I’ve been wanting one of these since I was about eight, how did you know?” she exclaims, eyes darting between the book in her hands as she flicks through it and her friends’ pleased smiles.

“We didn’t! We thought you could use it as a distraction for when you get overwhelmed with stuff, either when you need something calming to do or for when you just really want to destroy something,” Clara exclaims. 

Jolie’s eyes tear up once again at the thoughtfulness, and Yaz gives her hand another reassuring squeeze atop the table.

“Thank you … these are amazing,” she chokes out, prompting Yaz to pull her into a loose sideways hug.

“Right, my turn!” Ryan interrupts tactlessly, pushing two of the three other gifts across the table towards his friend.

“What’s with the Christmas paper?” Jolie laughs, thumbing the clumsily applied tape in amusement.

“I didn’t have anything else!”

“And you didn’t think to ask Grace?” Yaz teases, causing Ryan to fluster in embarrassment.

“Well, it was a bit last minute!”

“It’s the thought that counts, Ryan,” Jolie teases, patting him on the arm in a slightly condescending manner before going back to her presents.

She tears into the smaller one first, and pulls out … a jumbo pack of cheap biro pens.

“I’ve never known someone lose as many pens as you have, that should last you a month or so.”

Jolie scowls at him playfully until her face softens into a grin. “You’ve got a point, I can never have enough pens. Thank you.”

Jolie gives him another twitch of her lips into a wider smile before working her way into the second gift, much larger and squishier. She pulls the paper away completely and reveals something large, rainbow and fluffy.

“Ryan, is this …?”

“A rainbow giraffe onesie? Why yes it is,” he laughs, a triumphant grin.

“Oh my god, this is great,” Jolie hoots with laughter, inspecting the onesie more closely. It is indeed a giraffe, complete with a hood depicting the head and all.

“Yaz?”

“Yes, babe?”

“If I wear this when we get home, can we still get up to shenanigans?”

Yaz rolls her eyes before hiding her head in her hands. “Tact, Jo.” She grimaces, while Clara and Ryan laugh at her not so discreetly.

“Ahh, right. Yes, tact. Although, you didn’t answer me…”

Yaz concedes with an embarrassed groan. “I can guarantee that will kill the mood for shenanigans.”

“Cool, I will remember that then.”

The group break out into simultaneous laughter until Yaz reaches over and pulls the last gift towards them, nudging it into Jolie’s grasp.

“This is from all of us,” she explains, watching with bated breath as her girlfriend unwraps the gift.

“A photo album?”

“Look through it, babe,” she prompts, watching as her girlfriend carefully opens it to the first page.

She knows what the album contains, she had put it together herself, but it’s still nerve wracking to watch her girlfriend’s reaction. It’s only about half full, but where there are pictures they feature their friendship group of varying combinations, but Jolie features in every single one. There are ones of just her and Jolie, one of Jolie, Clara and Ryan, pictures with Yaz’s family, full group photos and everything in between.

“You’ve got a family now, Jolie,” Yaz whispers as she draws her in for an embrace. “We’re your family, and we all want you to know that.”

Jolie promptly bursts into tears, and hides her face in Yaz’s hair.

“Do you like it?” She checks, and Jolie nods into her shoulder. 

“I love it … just wasn’t expecting it,” she admits, sitting back up and rubbing at her eyes.

“We can fill the rest of the album with memories. And then, when that one’s full, we can get another one.”

Jolie nods, rubbing her thumb over a group picture of them taken at Yaz’s birthday party.

“Do you want some of this cake before we get going?”

“Absolutely, cake, yes.”

* * *

“Oh my god, this is incredible,” Jolie breathes as the group step into their first destination of the day; a disused train station converted into a second hand bookshop. The room they step immediately into is crammed with books from floor to ceiling. There are two large, cushy sofas framing a roaring fireplace that is going strong despite the heat burning just as fiercely outside. To the right of the hearth there is an honesty station for tea, coffee and biscuits, and then further right there is a wide archway leading to the main expanse of the shop, where more books fill the shelves topped with a toy train track. The shop extends all the way to the back of the former station, shelves not quite reaching the high, arched ceilings there but with famous literary quotes draped between the shelves.

“Brunch?” Yaz suggests, pointing to the very back of the store where a café runs along the length of the main section, windows looking between it and the shelves and shelves of books.

“Brunch for sure,” Jolie beams, looping an arm into Yaz’s and carefully making their way through the shop to the café.

It’s not long before the group are seated in the reclaimed train booth seats and tucking into hearty breakfasts. Jolie, Danny and Ryan have opted for full-English breakfasts while Yaz and Clara have gone for stacks of American pancakes doused in maple syrup and fruit. Although, Jolie does keep stealing bites from Yaz’s plate when she thinks she isn’t looking. Of course Yaz sees, but she allows her to steal the food anyway. If she were going to be honest with herself, she would let her steal her food any day, birthday or not.

“This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” Jolie enthuses through a mouthful of fried egg and tomato ketchup.

“It’s just a standard old English breakfast, calm down,” Danny mutters, looking up from his plate briefly to shoot a disapproving grimace in Jolie’s direction before going back to his own food. Yaz flicks her own glance up to see if, first, Jolie has had any reaction (thankfully she doesn’t seem to have noticed anything) and then to look at Clara. She’s squinting at Danny curiously, and it reminds Yaz that she is yet to talk to her about what has been going on between them.

Thankfully the rest of the meal goes without too much of a hitch, Danny choosing to stay quiet but regularly glaring at Jolie in brief glances up from the table. It irritates Yaz to no end, she has no idea what his problem is with her girlfriend, but it’s going to cause some serious issues in their group dynamics if it keeps up.

After brunch, the group make their way back into the bookshop to browse, Clara following Yaz and Jolie while Ryan nods his head for Danny to follow him out of the shop.

  
  


“Mate, I don’t know what’s up with you, if there’s something going on between you and Clara, but you need to sort it out before you end up ruining this whole trip with your sour attitude,” Ryan starts as soon as they’re standing still, not letting Danny get a word in before he can get his statement out into the open.

“I haven’t got an attitude,” he bites back, widening his stance.

“Okay, okay,” Ryan steps back a little, raising his hands momentarily. “You need to think about how you’re acting though, you’ve put down almost every single thing Jolie has said over the last couple of days, and you were way too dismissive about the thing with Yaz yesterday.”

Despite taking a step back so as not to rile up Danny, Ryan is in no way backing down from what he intended to say. When Danny literally  _ scoffs,  _ Ryan’s expression hardens once again.

“She way overreacted.” He shakes his head. “Talk about melodramatic…”

“Hey!” Ryan responds, his tone sharp. “Yaz was so far from melodramatic, she had every single right to react that way, and honestly I’m impressed with how well she handled it. She could have still been stuck in the tent today, not able to come with us, it could have been bad enough for us to have to take her home. But it wasn’t, she was incredibly strong and I’m so proud of her.”

“ I don’t —”

“Not, finished, Danny. You weren’t there for her when all that shit went down, and you weren’t there in the aftermath. I know you’re not as close with Yaz as Clara and I are, but you did nothing, so you have absolutely no right to tell her how to react to a triggering situation. Alright?”

“Alright,” Danny huffs, glaring at Ryan. “But Jolie really needs to tone it down, she’s acting like a little kid.”

“Oh, for …”

“She’s got Yaz wrapped around her little finger, she does way too much for her. And she’s acting more like a three year old on their birthday than a twenty-three year old, it’s embarrassing.”

“Nope, stop right there. For a start, she does not have Yaz wrapped around her little finger. Yaz is helping her out because she needs that extra support right now and because Yaz wants to. She got hit by a car so hard she was in hospital for four days and wasn’t able to take an independent step for almost three months. She has every right to that extra help. They love each other, that’s plain to see. And for God’s sake, it’s her birthday, let her have fun. Let her enjoy herself.”

Danny simply stares at Ryan, mouth slightly agape. Ryan is a little impressed with himself at his speech, it’s not often one can get Danny to admit to his faults.

“Good. So we’re going to go back in there, and you’re going to act like a decent human being. And tonight, Yaz is planning on taking Jolie out somewhere and I’ll go out for a walk or something. You and Clara will have some privacy to work out whatever the hell is going on. Alright?”

“Fine,” Danny huffs, stalking off back into the building with long, sharp strides.

* * *

The best part of the rest of the day is spent wandering a little aimlessly around the town, along the river, and up to the castle and the gardens. It’s another blisteringly hot day, and the clouds in the sky make it muggy and sticky, so both Yaz and Jolie are grateful when Ryan suggests the group split up for a little while. The other three wander off to seek cool air and shade in the parts of the castle that are free entry, while Yaz and Jolie opt to stay outside, seeking their own shade and privacy behind the trailing branches of a willow tree by the river. 

The curtain of green offers them a certain modicum of privacy, one which Yaz is grateful for as she helps Jolie sit down with her back to the tree and legs outstretched before Yaz lays down next to her and rests a head on her lap. She sighs in contentment as slender fingers run through her hair and scratch lightly at her scalp.

“How are you feeling about yesterday, babe?” Jolie implores, softening her tone so as not to spook Yaz out of divulging her feelings.

Yaz sighs, shifting her head as she tries to collect her thoughts. “Surprisingly okay, to be honest. I mean, I’m tired and a bit on edge, I really wish it hadn’t happened. I’m trying really hard to not let it get to me, but it’s still there, niggling at the back of my head.”

Jolie’s ministrations against her pause for a moment before her hand moves to cup Yaz’s cheek while the other assumes the task of playing with her hair.

“It’s okay to let these things get to you, Yaz,” Jolie reassures, but Yaz shakes her head and sits up abruptly, brows creased into a frown.

“They shouldn’t though, they shouldn’t. I don’t  _ want _ them to get to me.”

“Yaz, if the same thing had happened a year ago, how would you have reacted?”

Yaz refuses to answer, instead choosing to study the freckles on Jolie’s bare thighs far too intensely. 

“Yaz, there’s no shame. Just tell me. I’m not judging, I promise.”

Yaz swallows against the lump in her throat before she begins to talk. “I probably would have completely shut down and not left my bedroom for a week,” she admits, her voice almost a whisper.

“But that didn’t happen yesterday Yaz, and that’s progress. That’s so much progress and you should be incredibly proud of yourself, because I sure as hell am.”

Yaz leans into Jolie’s shoulder as her breath shakes. She hums in agreement.

“You’ve gotta say it, Yaz. I need you to say out loud that you’ve made progress and you’re proud.”

Yaz raises her eyebrows.

“Yup. Not letting you go until I hear you say it,” she grins, wrapping her arms around Yaz’s waist and squeezing gently.

“Fine. I’ve made progress and I’m proud of that,” she whispers.

“Louder, babe.”

“I’ve made progress and I’m damn proud of it!” She affirms, with a much more convincing tone than before.

“Perfect. Just know that we’re all so, so proud of you. Alright?”

Yaz nods and leans her head back onto Jolie’s chest. The hair playing resumes.

“Actually, babe? Can I ask you a favour?”

“Sure.”

“Will you braid my hair? It’s really starting to stick to the back of my neck and I like it when you play with my hair.”

Jolie smiles a smile so soft Yaz thinks she might actually melt, before patting the grass between her knees. Yaz shuffles into it, sighing in contentment when her girlfriend sets to work on the long, dark strands lying sticky against her skin.

  
  


* * *

Hushed giggles give away the young couple as they move down the boardwalk over the dunes, heading for the beach.

“Yaz, what are we doing?” Jolie whispers over the sound of the waves that crash against the shore ahead of them. She is holding her phone to use as a torch, although really she doesn't need it; the moon is out in full force tonight, no urban lights to obscure the beauty of the night sky.

“Your birthday surprise.”

“Are you going to murder me and throw my body in the sea?”

“What? No, of course not.”

“Ooh, are we going skinny dipping?”

“Babe, we may be in the middle of a heatwave but that’s the North Sea, there’s no way I’m going skinny dipping in there, it’s freezing.”

“Does that mean you’d go skinny dipping elsewhere?”

“Jo!”

“What? It’s a valid question.”

Yaz’s eye roll is almost audible.

“Right, just shush so I can give you a piggy back across the sand.”

Jolie grins at her through the dark before hopping up on Yaz’s back, wrapping her arms and legs around her and hugging her like a koala as they make their way carefully across the sand. As Jolie hooks her chin over Yaz’s shoulder, the inky black, glittering water is what greets her vision. It’s slightly ominous and she’s glad they’re not actually going skinny dipping. The water definitely does not look as inviting at night.

Yaz sets her down on the ground, shaking out a picnic blanket before helping to lower her to the ground. Yaz encourages Jolie to curl up half on top of her, resting her head on her chest and running her hands through curled, shoulder-length blonde strands. It echoes their position under the tree earlier in the day.

“Why did you bring me down here, Yaz? Because as lovely as this is, I don’t feel like lying on the sand in the dark is the entire surprise.”

Yaz chuckles, her breaths ruffling Jolie’s hair. “Well I were looking at some certain forecasts, and it just so happened that something pretty cool coincides with your birthday. Even luckier is that we’re in one of the least light-polluted areas of the UK, and there are no clouds to obscure our view tonight.”

“View of what, babe?” Jolie asks, clearly still not getting the memo.

“Just look at the sky,” Yaz whispers, resuming carding her fingers through Jolie’s hair in an effort to get her to relax a little and stay still long enough. She obediently gazes up, searching the stars above them for whatever Yaz has brought her here for. There a couple of minutes of silence, and Jolie is just about to ask again what  _ exactly _ what they’re doing, when her thoughts are interrupted by her own gasp as a white light streaks across the sky.

“Happy birthday,” Yaz whispers into her hair, reaching one hand down to intertwine their fingers and squeeze gently.

“You got me shooting stars for my birthday?”

“Well, I didn’t  _ get _ them, per se, but I did find out that a meteor shower was happening and I brought you somewhere to see it,” Yaz smiles, humble in her efforts.

“I love you,” Jolie says simply, because really there is no better way to express what she is feeling at this precise moment.

“I love you too, birthday girl.”

They lay in relative silence for the next half an hour, the only noises being the steady crash of the waves against the shore and gentle intakes of breath and noises of awe every time there’s another streak of light.

Eventually, the meteor shower dies down, and Jolie moves back up the blanket so she’s lying face to face with Yaz. Her wonderful, wonderful Yaz.

“I got you one more present,” Yaz whispers, and Jolie’s eyes widen in anticipation. She sits up in unison with Yaz, and watches with interested eyes as she pulls a small, velvet drawstring bag out of her pocket and passes it over,

Pulling open the bag, Jolie reaches two fingers inside to connect with a fine metal chain, pulling it out so it glints in the moonlight.

“You got me another ear cuff?” She whispers, inspecting the piece of jewelry. It’s silver, with a sun at the bottom connected by a fine, star-dusted chain that connects to a crescent moon at the other end.

“Yeah.”

“It’s perfect, I love it. Almost as much as I love you,” Jolie grins, kissing Yaz’s forehead lightly.

“You’re full of charm today, babe,” Yaz teases.

“Did you know that a group of hummingbirds is called a charm?”

“I did not.”

“Mmhmm,” Jolie mumbles distractedly, thumbing the metal glinting in the palm of her hand.

“Does that mean you’re my hummingbird?”

“I s’pose it does,” Jolie smiles, allowing Yaz to kiss her again.

“Thank you. For the best birthday I’ve had in a long time,” she whispers as Yaz cups her jaw and strokes the curve of her cheek with her thumb. Her voice shakes a little when she speaks.

“Really. I haven’t enjoyed my birthday for so long, but today was so perfectly perfect. It wasn’t over the top, it wasn’t overwhelming. It was just what I wanted, to spend the day with the best girlfriend in the universe, and our friends.”

Yaz grins back at her before moving a hand behind her neck to draw her in for a gentle kiss. Perhaps if they weren’t sitting on a beach, if they had somewhere to go back to other than a flimsy tent being shared with three other people, it would turn into something more. But alas, this is the situation, so they keep things tame. Although neither of them are complaining, it’s still picture perfect.

“I might have to disagree with that, babe,” Yaz teases when they pull away, running her thumb along Jolie’s kiss-swollen bottom lip.

“Hmm?”

“I can’t possibly be the best girlfriend in the universe, because that has to be you I’m afraid,” she teases, cutting off Jolie’s protests with another kiss.

“Maybe we can agree it’s a mutual thing,” the blonde suggests, and Yaz hums in affirmation.

“I’m so glad I met you, you know,” Yaz murmurs against her lips.

“I’m so glad I met you too, Yaz.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Please feel free to leave a comment, they make my day. If you have anything you would like to prompt me with, don't hesitate to leave it in the comments below, or drop me a message on tumblr or twitter.
> 
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_
> 
> Chapter title is a lyric from this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zcw5qmsUfB8
> 
> Playlist with all the songs from this fic can be found here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0T2wY8WE7DwBZGH1Ui0agQ
> 
> Also, if you're interested, the town they visited, Alnwick, is a real place! It also has the bookshop mentioned, called Barter Books, and I would highly recommend looking it up :)


	21. Nothing But Blue Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jolie, Yaz and Clara have a girls day out with friendship, serious conversations and some good news.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw for thunderstorms and panic attacks
> 
> it's a very soft chapter though, i promise

Yaz lies awake, listening to the low rumbles of thunder in the distance. It had been stiflingly hot for the last few days and even though the forecast hadn’t predicted it, she’s not surprised. Although Yaz isn’t necessarily scared of thunderstorms, the experience of one happening when all you have to protect you is a thin layer of tent is, well, unnerving.

She stares at the ceiling of the tent as the storm moves closer to them, growing in intensity and noise. By her count, it’s eight miles away now, and moving fairly quickly. A louder rumble of thunder sounds, louder than anything previous and Jolie stirs suddenly in her sleep, curling in on herself and breathing fast.

Yaz frowns sleepily at her girlfriend in confusion, she cannot tell if she is gripped in a nightmare, afraid of thunder, or a bit of both. Yaz snaps into action and gently shakes her shoulder to try and rouse her. It doesn’t work though, and she twists further in on herself at the next clap of thunder, beginning to sob. Yaz sits up, shaking her shoulders firmly and whispering in her ear to try and draw her out of her subconscious.

“C’mon baby, wake up. It’s just a dream, you’re okay, you’re alright.”

There’s another blinding flash, and a particularly loud crack and resounding rumble engulfs the tent and Jolie gasps awake, shooting upright and headbutting Yaz in the chin in the process. She’s rubbing the rapidly developing red patch when she notices the blonde staring at her with something akin to disbelief on her face, chest heaving. Yaz reaches over and turns on their small camping lantern, bathing their tent pod in a warm glow. The low light reveals her face to be shiny with tear tracks, with a pale, slightly green hue. She reaches out a hand for her girlfriend to take, but she’s still staring at her as her bottom lip trembles and she gasps for air. She doesn’t even register Yaz’s extended hand. 

Yaz shuffles closer and takes a hand, squeezing it tightly in an attempt to bring her back to the tent, back to reality. 

“Jo, it’s Yaz, I’m right here. We’re in the tent, you’re okay, I promise,” she soothes, moving to sit directly in front of her as she takes her other hand. She jumps violently with the next clap of thunder, the storm appears to be right overhead now and Jolie is shaking so hard she looks like she’s about to topple over. Yaz makes the executive decision to close the distance between them, wrapping an arm tightly around her girlfriend and rubbing firm circles into her back with the heel of her other hand.

“I’ve got you Jo, I’m right here. You’re safe, I promise. We’re on holiday with Clara and Danny and Ryan, near Scotland. We’re sitting in our pod in the tent, there’s a thunderstorm going on outside but it can’t hurt us.” 

“No, no no no,” she croaks, her voice breaking and fissuring under her stress.

Another bright flash and a loud clap comes at just the wrong moment and Jolie cowers into her, clipped nails gripping half moons into Yaz’s arms.

She shifts her position to wrap her legs around her girlfriend’s curled-up form, hugging her like a koala. Continuing the deep pressure on her back, she moves her other hand to the side of her head, gently encouraging her to rest the side of her face against her chest.

Her skin and hair is damp with sweat and her sobs soak through Yaz’s pyjama top in seconds, but she cannot bring herself to care. 

“Babe, can you hear my heartbeat there? Focus on that for me, that’ll help. I’m right here and we’re okay, I promise. I’m not going anywhere.” 

She can feel Jolie’s breathing start to even out a little, although it’s still fast and heavy. She’s continuing to speak reassuringly in her ear and rub her back when the zip on the door to their pod slides open, and Jolie jumps hard, again. Clara’s concerned face pops through the gap, and Yaz smiles tiredly at her.

“It’s okay, it’s just Clara,” she reassures, and Jolie gives the slightest of nods.

“Everything okay?” she mouths, and Yaz shakes her head with a grimace.

“Could you maybe grab us some water?”

Clara nods and slips away from the opening, rummaging around in their haphazard pile of food supplies. Yaz continues to hold her girlfriend tight, encouraging her to match her breathing until Clara steps back into the pod, bottle of water in hand. Yaz loosens her grip a little to take it, unscrewing the cap and handing it to Jolie and supporting the bottom of the bottle as the blonde takes greedy gulps of the water.

Clara crouches a little awkwardly beside them, not sure whether she should stay or leave. Jolie looks at her sheepishly when she hands the bottle of water back, giving a tight-lipped smile in thanks before resting her head against Yaz’s chest again, shutting her eyes.

“I’ll just be in my pod if you need anything,” she explains, smiling warmly and making her way to the door of the pod. 

“Thank you,” Jolie whispers, voice slightly less hoarse and croaky thanks to the water. 

“Of course,” she replies, giving Jolie’s arm a quick squeeze before exiting the pod, zipping the door shut behind her.

When Clara is gone, Yaz drops a kiss to the top of her head, momentarily squeezing her tighter when another low rumble sounds. It’s much further away now though, and Yaz can’t help but let out a little sigh of relief.

“Storm’s almost gone, babe,” she says, absentmindedly stroking the side of her girlfriend’s head.

“M’sorry Yaz.”

“Jolie, you’ve got absolutely nothing to be sorry about. Not your fault.”

Jolie shakes her head sheepishly, staring at her knees and tracing the fabric of her pyjamas bottoms with the tip of her finger, following the patterns of where raised scars mark her skin.

Yaz sighs and takes a second to figure out how best to approach the situation. Moving the hand that has slipped from the side of Jolie’s head to her shoulder, she brings it to cup her chin lightly and turn her head towards her, forcing her gaze away from her knees. 

“Jo, please listen to me. It’s absolutely not your fault. Not one tiny bit. I were already awake because of the storm, and I’m sure Clara was too. I really don’t think she would have heard us if she weren’t already awake, because the guys didn’t. But I’m glad I was awake, I wouldn’t want you to go through that alone.” She fixes Jolie with a firm yet gentle stare, kissing her cheek when she gives a meek nod.

“I don’t wanna talk about it yet, please,” she asks, tear tracks still marking her face.

“That’s alright, we can talk when you’re ready. D’you just want to sleep?”

Jolie nods and Yaz loosens her embrace, allowing her girlfriend to arrange herself how she feels the most comfortable. She doesn’t miss the grimace though when she tries to stretch her legs out, and neither when her girlfriend fails to straighten her bad knee all the way. Jolie glares at it intensely, her face full of frustration.

Yaz places a hand gently on her shoulder to get her attention, keeping her expression neutral and non-judgemental. 

“Babe, I think you’re having trouble with your knee because you were holding yourself so tight and you were so tense. Do you want a compression bandage to help while you sleep?”

Jolie’s mouth forms an “o” shape as she continues to stare at the painful joint, and then turns to Yaz and nods, taking the stretchy, off-white fabric that her girlfriend is already holding out to her. She slips it over her foot and up her leg, adjusting it so it rests comfortably on her knee before pulling her pyjama bottoms back down. She then shuffles awkwardly under the makeshift duvet trying to find the comfiest way to lie on the slightly hard ground.

She huffs in frustration and looks back at Yaz.

Yaz stops midway into her side, watching her girlfriend carefully. “What do you need?”

She holds up the sleeping bag, inviting Yaz in with flushed cheeks.

“Of course I can,” Yaz replies warmly, dropping a kiss to Jolie’s temple as she slides in next to her to put her at ease. When she gathers Jo into her arms, she can still feel her racing heartbeat as the blonde tucks herself closer and hooks her chin over Yaz’s shoulder. She continues rubbing deep pressure circles into the top of her back, and she’s pleased when Jolie sighs in contentment against her exposed skin.

* * *

The next morning, Yaz wakes before Jolie, but to a face full of slightly wavy blonde hair. Spluttering and pushing it out of her face, she wriggles slightly until she can hold Jolie a little more comfortably, the blonde still snoring in her arms. She’s about to doze off again when she hears a hushed argument drifting through the thin fabric of their tent pod. She really shouldn’t listen in, but it’s hard not to when it’s still so early and quiet, and she can see two shadows on the other side of her door.

“Clara, you can’t be getting up in the middle of the night. We’ve talked about this.” Danny’s hushed but angry voice floats through the fabric. She frowns and shifts her position.

“Danny, it’s fine. Yaz and Jolie needed my help.” She can practically hear the shrug in Clara’s voice, and her heart warms a little at her best friend’s concern for both her and her girlfriend.

Danny scoffs, and Yaz tenses. “Yeah, sure they did.”

“Danny, they’re my friends. I help them whether they need it or not. And besides, I was awake anyway, the thunder woke me up,” Clara fires back, her signature stubbornness and bite running clearly through her tone of voice.

“I just care about you, Clara. You need to look after yourself.”

“Well, if you cared about us, then you wouldn’t be off to join the army, would you,” Clara hisses. Yaz decides it would definitely be inappropriate to eavesdrop anymore, not that it was intentional in the first place, and coughs, alerting the couple outside to her wakefulness. The argument stops, and she gets up carefully so as not to wake Jolie, unzipping the door of her pod and stepping into the main part of the tent.

“Mornin’,” she mumbles sleepily, stretching out like a cat and yawning to try and give the impression that she’d just woken up. She plans to talk to Clara about it later, but right now is definitely not the right time.

“Is Jolie still asleep?” Clara asks, and Yaz nods. 

“I’m just going to leave her be, she’s probably exhausted.”

Clara hums in agreement, turning back to look at Danny with her arms crossed just as Ryan stumbles out of his pod, wrestling with a backpack. “You two off then?”

Yaz looks between the three of them for a moment in confusion, before it clicks. Danny and Ryan had already planned to go hiking today and had claimed the car, while her, Jolie and Clara were planning on a girl’s day.

“Yup,” Ryan nods, heaving his backpack on and sitting down in the doorway to tie his boots while Danny consults their map.

“Alright, keep your GPS things on, and text us when you get there and when you leave,” Clara confirms, a slightly worried look on her face.

“Yes,  _ mum,”  _ Ryan teases, earning a whack to the shoulder for his comment. Danny is already marching over to the car though, so Ryan quickly gets up and follows him, waving a goodbye.

Yaz and Clara watch them head off before stepping back into the tent, sitting down opposite each other at their little camping table and chairs.

“Is everything alright with you?” Yaz queries, grabbing the fruit juice and pouring herself a glass.

Clara shrugs, sitting back in her chair and resting her hands on her stomach. “Feel a bit funny, but other than that, yeah.” 

Yaz knows she’s deflecting but she lets her; the argument she overheard this morning must have really irked her, and she’s obviously not ready to talk about it yet.

“Is it okay with you if we keep today a bit more lowkey? Jo’s probably exhausted and anxious, I’m not sure she’d handle a full day out.”

“Of course,” Clara nods, tucking a leg up onto her chair. 

“Is it weird, having to look after her at the moment?”

“What do you mean?” Yaz counters, taking a sip of her juice.

“I don’t mean this in a hurtful way, I just want to make sure you two are doing okay. She’s still recovering from the accident and the surgery, and even after she’s technically better, there’ll be long-term effects too, right? And then there’s the psychological effects too, like last night. Was that to do with the accident?”

Yaz sighs, sitting back in her chair. “I’m not looking after her though, not really. She’s my girlfriend and I love her and sometimes she needs a bit extra help with things, just like I do. We support each other. And yeah, last night, it was to do with the accident. I mean, it’s up to her if she wants to tell you what happened, but it was a particularly nasty nightmare.”

Clara winces, but nods in thought while Yaz downs the rest of her juice, then grabs a granola bar from the box.

“You know I’m only asking because I care about you.  _ Both  _ of you. You’re still working through your own trauma. I don’t know everything but Jolie hasn’t had the best past either, and then her accident on top of that. I want you to know that I’m here for both of you, if you need it. Or even if you don’t.” Clara smiles at her completely sincerely, and it warms Yaz’s heart.

“I appreciate that. Neither of us are very good at asking for help though,” she laughs, crunching her granola bar.

“Oh well I know that much. Work on it.” Clara gives a stern expression and wags her finger at Yaz, and both of them start giggling. 

* * *

Half an hour later, they each head back to their respective pods to start getting ready for the day. When Yaz steps into theirs, she finds Jolie awake but lying on her side and staring into space. When Yaz’s “mornin’ Jo,” is responded to with a faint grunt of acknowledgement, she opts to lie down on the floor opposite her, stroking her hair gently.

“How’re you feeling this morning, hummingbird?”

Jolie smiles slightly at the new turn of endearment that came out of last night’s events, but she still curls her arms tighter around her middle. “Fuzzy, everything aches,” she admits, tucking her chin to her chest so she doesn’t have to look at Yaz.

“I’m not surprised, babe. But that’s alright, Ryan and Danny have gone on that hike so it’s just us and Clara today, we can keep it as lowkey as you need.”

Jolie nods and looks back up at Yaz again, a weak smile on her face. When Yaz slings an arm over her shoulder in a half hug, she shuffles forward slowly and moves her arms from her own middle to Yaz’s, only wincing a little. “I might need a bit of help with the knee physio stuff this morning,” she admits into Yaz’s chest.

“S’fine,” Yaz murmurs back. “You want to do it now, or after breakfast?”

“Before breakfast,” the blonde confirms, tucking her arms tighter around Yaz’s torso. “Five more minutes though,” she mumbles, and Yaz grins.

* * *

A slightly longer than five minutes-cuddle and a physio session later, Jolie is attempting to wriggle out of her pyjamas and into clean clothes while still sitting on the floor. 

After Yaz had taken her down to the shower block to help wash off the sweat and upset from last night, a fact which Jolie was completely mortified by and which Yaz had assured her was no big deal, Yaz had stayed to get herself ready for the day. Jolie had hobbled her way back to the tent painfully slowly, which was definitely not aided by the muddied and slippery grass. She had to wear her sweaty pyjamas to get back, and is desperate to get out of them, even if it would be easier with Yaz here to help. There’s a lot of huffing and awkward maneuvering as her limbs still ache a touch, and her knee refuses to play ball. Finally, she’s dressed in her new dungaree shorts and an orange and blue striped t-shirt.

She goes to stand up without thinking, but she’s barely a couple of inches off the ground when she feels her knee start to buckle underneath her and she drops back to the floor before she can do any real damage with a frustrated groan. Trying again, just on her good leg, she counters the balance problem and falls back to the floor as she starts to topple. She can hear Clara moving around in the main part of her tent, and considers her options. She could either wait an unknown length of time for Yaz to get back, or she could ask Clara for a hand off the floor. Noting how uncomfortable she’s getting sitting on the floor, she opts for the latter.

“Erm, Clara, are you busy?” Jolie calls tentatively, and she hears the woman in question stop moving. 

“Not really, no. You need something?”

“Yeah, a hand up off the floor,” Jolie chuckles, and Clara steps into the pod, an understanding smile on her face. 

“No problem,” she replies, crouching down opposite the blonde. “Just tell me what you need me to do and I’m all yours.”

“Right,” Jolie nods, but she can already feel the cogs in her brain starting to whir out of control when she realises her head is still fizzing, and she can’t remember the steps required to get her upright. 

“It’s alright, take you time,” Clara reassures, seemingly sensing her trepidation.

“I think I just need you for balance. If you could hold my elbows and stop me toppling, and then pass my crutch when I’m up?”

Clara nods and picks up the crutch to rest against the corner of the tent so it’s easier to grab when she’s up, then bends back down opposite Jolie. She takes a firm grip of her elbows, and on the count of three, she helps haul Jolie to her feet. The blonde can feel that she’s relying on Clara more than she would like, but before she can really think about it she’s upright and Clara has passed the crutch into her grip. Ideally, on a bad day like today she would prefer to have both of them, but they had left the spare in the car to avoid taking up extra space, which the boys have presumably driven off with. 

She gratefully accepts Clara’s help over the tricky lip at the edge of their pod and into a camping chair at their table, eagerly tucking into the breakfast options. She’s halfway through her cereal when Yaz reappears, and Jolie instantly greets her with a wide and slightly over exaggerated grin. Yaz grins right back and tilts her head up to kiss her sweetly, before settling down next to her. 

“Hey, you’re dressed and up! How are you feeling?” Yaz asks, tucking her legs up into her chair.

“You’re looking very pretty today Yaz,” the blonde replies, blushing when Clara giggles from the other side of the table.

“Thank you, but you’re deflecting, babe,” Yaz deadpans.

“Oi! I’m just trying to be charming, Yaz. Remind you how much I love you,” Jolie sing songs the last part, and Yaz rolls her eyes at her girlfriend’s antics.

“I’m feeling a bit better though,” she admits after an eyebrow raise from Yaz.

“I’m glad,” she smiles. “How’s the balance today?”

Jolie pulls a face and visibly cringes. “Shoddy. I couldn’t get off the floor, and I’m pretty sure the boys have driven off with one of my crutches.”

“That’s alright, I can easily give you an arm. Maybe we can work out what we’re going to do today?” Yaz jumps in and suggests before her girlfriend can spiral, shuffling her chair closer to Jolie’s. She leans in for another quick kiss before resting an arm lazily over her shoulder while she finishes her cereal.

“Heading into Seahouses might be a good option,” Clara suggests, and Jolie furrows her eyebrows.

“I thought we were planning to go there tomorrow?”

“Yeah, but we’re going on that boat trip and it’ll take up most of the day before we have to get back to make the drive home. So if we actually want to have a good look around we can go today,” Clara explains, and Jolie nods slowly. Yaz watches the crease between her eyebrows deepen and decides to intervene before she can inevitably work herself into a panic about the prospect of a full day out. 

“It’s a half an hour walk, but the path is smooth for the majority and there are plenty of benches along the way if you need a break. When we get there there’s no pressure, if you want to take your book and find a quiet spot that’s fine, there are plenty of good pubs where we can hang out for a couple of hours and have lunch. The point is that there's no time pressure, we can take the day at your pace.”

“And if you want to just stay here and chill, that’s okay too,” Clara adds, and Yaz hums in confirmation.

They both allow Jolie the space to think and mull over her options while she finishes her breakfast while Yaz and Clara easily continue their chatter.

“I think I want to go into town,” Jolie says eventually, swallowing the last of her fruit juice. “We might just have to go really slowly.”

“I’m on board with slow,” Clara grins, stretching her arms above her head.

“Sounds like a plan. Let’s get that knee of yours strapped up then we can get going.”

* * *

Once they reach the town after a long and slightly painful walk on Jolie’s part, she decides she is very much in need of a break and settles herself down on a bench at the edge of a cluster of them facing the harbour. It is still fairly early in the day, and so there are only a few other people about. 

“You guys go and have a look around a little, I’m quite happy here with my book,” she reassures when Yaz hesitates to leave her on her own.

“Are you sure?” She checks, chewing her bottom lip in worry. Jolie can’t blame her for being worried, last night was hard on both of them, and she imagines Yaz is just as tired as she is.

“I’m sure, babe. I’ve got my book, I’ve got my earbuds and my phone if I need them. I’ll be fine,” she insists.

“At least put your leg up,” Yaz reasons, and Jolie complies with an eye roll. Of course the pulsing pain in her knee starts to subside as soon as she elevates it, but she’s far too stubborn to admit that Yaz was right. 

“I’ll text you if I need you, but I’m sure I won’t.” Jolie pulls Yaz down for a quick kiss before she practically shoves her and Clara away to have some of their own time.

“Huh, love you too,” Yaz grumbles playfully.

“Love you, Yaz!” Jolie calls after them with a grin before opening her book and settling herself in for at least an hour to herself in the sun.

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Yaz finds that a quiet corner of a charity shop along the harbour front is the best chance she is going to get to talk to Clara about what has been going on over the last few days, and so she dives straight in at the deep end.

“Clara, I need to ask you something.”

“Erm, sure.” The shorter brunette looks worried, but goes back to rifling through the rails of clothes so as to distract herself somewhat.

“Is there something going on with Danny? With you and Danny?”

Clara eyes narrow, and Yaz knows she is on the defensive, but she soldiers on regardless.

“You can tell me, Clara. If there’s something going on with you, I want to help. You’ve done the same for me more times than I can count.”

Clara goes quiet once again, but her expression has changed, and over fifteen years of friendship tell Yaz that she is processing and she’ll talk when she is ready, but Yaz’s words have gotten through.

They’ve moved onto shelves and shelves of dog-eared paperbacks when Clara finally divulges almost all to Yaz.

“We’ve had some disagreements about his move to the army. There’s been some stuff happening that’s changed things, and I can’t tell you what that is just yet, but we haven’t exactly been seeing eye to eye,” she confesses, fingers flicking at the frayed cover of one of the books, only stopping when the cashier glares at her from behind the till over the top of her glasses.

“I heard your argument this morning,” Yaz admits sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to, but I were awake, it was quiet and the tent fabric isn’t exactly thick.”

“How much did you hear?”

“Danny said that you can’t be getting up in the middle of the night, that you’d talked about it. That’s all.”

Clara nods slowly and then turns to walk out of the shop. Yaz hurries behind her.

“Didn’t like any of that stuff anyway,” her friend mutters, walking over to the low stone wall on the opposite side of the road. She sits down on it heavily, back to the sea, and Yaz joins her.

“Clara, please. You can talk to me. You’re my best friend, I don’t want you to be hurting. That would make me a pretty sucky best friend if I were just going to let you suffer when there was something I could do to help.”

“I just … I’m so  _ sick  _ of his attitude sometimes. He says he cares about people, about our friends, about me, and then he goes and joins the army without even properly discussing it with me, and then he pulls shit like yesterday. He was so close to ruining Jolie’s birthday, and for what? He had no reason to be acting like that. I just don’t get it.”

Yaz sighs at the sight of her best friend so worked up, and wraps an arm around her shoulders to pull her into a sideways hug. She doesn’t speak, just allows Clara to be comforted by the moment, the only sound the seagulls soaring overhead, the waves crashing against the harbour wall and the shouts of local fisherman and tour guides trying to draw in tourists.

“I do want to tell you, Yaz. I just can’t yet. It’s a big thing, and I have to be sure before I can say anything.”

Yaz nods. She has her suspicions, but they are tentative, and she does not want to force Clara into telling her anything that she is not yet ready to share. “Just promise me, Danny isn’t making you keep quiet about anything, and you’re not terminally ill or anything like that.”

“I promise, Yaz. No danger over here,” she chuckles, momentarily squeezing Yaz tighter before she lets go and move away.

“Good. But I’m always here for you, whenever you need me, alright?”

“I knew that already, Yaz.”

“Just checking.”

Yaz walks away from the conversation feeling a little lighter, a little less worried about what has been going on with her best friend. Of course, there is still that underlying layer of anxiety, but she trusts that Clara will tell her more when the time is appropriate.

* * *

“I have to say, this is much more relaxing without the imminent threat of Ryan dumping a bucket of freezing water on my head,” Jolie laughs as Yaz and Clara take and arm each and help lower her down onto the sand. They had made it about halfway back to the campsite before Jolie had given in to Yaz’s not so subtle hints to take a break, and so Yaz had piggybacked her over the dunes and down onto the beach. 

“Good point. Although it was warmer the other day,” Clara quips, settling down on Jolie’s right while Yaz sits to the left. 

Clara is right; while it is still hot and sunny, the storm last night has left some lingering clouds and a bit of a haze in the air. There is also more of a breeze blowing in off the sea, making the heatwave overall a little more bearable.

“We’ve definitely been luckier with the weather this year. Last time we came it was horrible, it rained so much,” Clara muses, crossing her ankles and leaning back on her arms.

“Was that last year?”

“No, year before. We didn’t come last year because … well, you know,” Yaz replies

Jolie internally curses herself for her forgetfulness, of  _ course _ they hadn’t come up here last year.

“Sorry,” she winces.

“S’fine. Anyways, the weather was awful but we were determined to take the boat trip out to the islands so we went anyway. But the sea was too choppy to be able to land the boat —”

“Choppy?!” Clara interrupts, laughing. “Yaz, it was like being inside a washing machine, but way more terrifying.”

“Clara went a bit green.”

“Yeah, and Ryan got completely drenched by a massive wave,” Clara snorts, and Yaz joins in at the visual of the memory.

“Hopefully we should actually be able to have a good look around tomorrow though, the islands are supposed to be really nice, and there are puffin and seal colonies.”

Jolie’s face lights up at the mention of animals, but before she can say anything she’s interrupted by her phone vibrating in her pocket. She pulls it out, frowning at the number displayed on screen.

“Yaz, I think this is the sustainable energy people I really wanted a job with,” she states, eyes widening.

“Answer it then!”

“But what if they’re calling to say I didn’t get it?”

“Yeah, but they might be calling to say you did! Now answer it before it rings out, you dumbo!”

Jolie sticks her tongue out at Yaz childishly but accepts the call and raises the phone to her ear.

“Hello, this is Jolene Smith. Speaking?”

_ “Jolene?”  _ Clara mouths, and Yaz has to hold back a giggle. It has just occurred to her that Clara has only heard Jolie’s full name once, at her graduation and she has probably forgotten. She can understand her confusion. It certainly sounds far too formal and old-fashioned for the bubbly blonde, and while Yaz does not dislike the name, she thinks that ‘Jolie’ suits her far better.

She looks over to the woman in question and notices she is starting to chew the skin around her thumbnail in a subconscious nervous tick. She reaches up and draws the hand into her own, pulling it away and squeezing gently in reassurance. Jolie shoots her a grateful smile, before her bottom lip becomes the new subject of her attack.

Yaz’s heart is in her mouth while she watches her girlfriend on her phone, feeling herself relax the more Jolie’s face lightens up and the grip on her hand loosens. Eventually, she cuts the call off and turns to Yaz with one of the biggest grins on her face that she may have ever displayed. Her whole face is creased with joy, and Yaz immediately knows it’s good news.

“Yaz, I got it. I got the job!” She beams, dropping her phone into her lap and leaning over to wrap her arms around Yaz’s neck in a crushing hug.

“Oh my god, I’m so proud of you!” Yaz replies, her voice already thick with emotion.

Jolie pulls back and cups her face, which Clara shuffles over to sit next to her and wrap an arm around the blonde’s shoulders.

“I can’t believe it,” she mumbles, eyes wide.

“I can,” Yaz counters, squeezing her waist. “What did they say?”

“They said that — they said that normally they would do a follow-up interview, but they thought I would be the perfect fit ‘cause of that final project I did at uni, and it was obvious in the original interview how much I wanted to make some sort of difference. And —  _ and,  _ they said that my knee stuff isn’t a problem and they can adapt practical stuff for me until I’m recovered enough to actually do it properly!”

She’s bubbling with excitement, and Yaz shines with pride and joy and admiration for the woman she fell in love with, the woman she never wants to let go again.

“Jolie, that’s amazing, and you are so, so deserving of this,” Clara pipes up, squeezing Jolie’s shoulders.

“She’s right. I can’t think of anything better for you. When did they say you start?”

“Two days after we move into our new place.”

“That’s going to be a bit mad,” Yaz grimaces, already trying to work out the logistics in her head.

“Yeah … but we’ve got each other, and it’ll be so worth it.”

“Consider your shifts cleared for that week, Yaz,” Clara says from their side, and when Yaz goes to protest that  _ really,  _ she doesn’t need to do that, her best friend cuts her off before she can even get a couple of words in.

When Yaz looks back at Jolie, she’s gazing at her with such an expression of pure adoration that if she were standing up, Yaz is sure that she would go weak at the knees and simply collapse into a heap on the floor. Thankfully, she is sitting down so, in the heat of the moment, she presses her lips to Jolie’s in a show of affection, everything and everyone around them becoming obsolete for a split second.

“Guys, I’m  _ right _ here!”

* * *

They’re sitting sprawled around on the grass outside their tent, waiting for the boys to get back and finishing off the last of the birthday cake from yesterday when Jolie pipes up.

“Guys, I want to apologise. For last night.”

“Jolie, no. I already told you this, you’ve not nothing to apologise for,” Yaz interrupts firmly, and gives her girlfriend a stern look.

“But —”

“Nope, no buts,” Clara adds. “No apologies, these things happen.”

“But I kept you both up!”

“Babe, I already said that I was awake anyway, and Clara was too.”

“Yup.”

Jolie sighs, looking between the two women; her girlfriend, and the other woman who she would now consider to be one of her closest friends.

“Two against one, mate. You can’t argue,” Clara shrugs, abandoning her fork on her plate and leaning backwards.

“Ugh,  _ fine.  _ But if you won’t let me apologise, at least let me tell you how much I appreciate you.  _ Both _ of you.”

A predictable soft smile moulds into Yaz’s face, and Clara’s expression almost mirrors it.

“We appreciate you too, Jo. So much,” Yaz reassures, wrapping her arms around her when Jolie frowns in doubt.

“But what’ve I done?”

“Well, I can’t speak for Yaz, but honestly I think you were sort of the missing piece in our little friendship group. You’re bright, you’re funny, you’re smart. I can definitely say that we’ve all been happier since you rocked up.”

Jolie swallows against the lump in her throat, determined not to cry because in her opinion, she’s done far too much of that as of late. It proves futile though when Yaz adds her point of view.

“She’s right. Honestly, Jolie, I don’t think I would have gone back to university in January, if ever, if it weren’t for you. You’ve taught me so much, but most importantly how to properly trust people again, and there’s literally no way I can pay that back.”

Jolie almost chokes on the sob that involuntarily bubbles up, but it’s a happy cry, and she leans into the embrace that Yaz offers. It’s her safety blanket. Yaz is her safety blanket.

“You don’t have to pay it back, but if you did have to, I think looking after me for these last three and a bit months more than does it.”

Jolie watches Yaz’s expression, and once again, for lack of a better way to express her feelings, she captures Yaz in a passionate kiss.

“”Guys, again, seriously?”

“What, you want me to kiss you too?” Jolie grins, leaning over to Clara and kissing her in the middle of her forehead, much to Yaz’s amusement.

“My god you’re annoying sometimes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! We're nearing the end of this story now, and things are going to start wrapping up very soon!
> 
> See you next time :)
> 
> Chapter title source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XYw1e_99PUs  
> Playlist for this fic: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0T2wY8WE7DwBZGH1Ui0agQ  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_  
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Discord: doodlesimss#8487


	22. Pitch Black, Pale Blue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last day of the camping trip!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief mention of grief at the end of this chapter
> 
> Thank you to walkerlister and anobii1992 for helping me out with bits of this chapter and listening to my rambling!

Jolie bites back a cry as she stands from the table, stabs of pain shooting through her leg as she falters and all her weight shifts onto her injured side. Her fingers turn white as she grips onto the edge of their foldout table, the flimsy surface wobbling almost as much as she is. She squeezes her eyes shut and silently wills the throbbing to subside just a little bit so she can move and relieve the pressure, but she’s frozen to the spot, very real pain mixed with a touch of a phantom ache in her lower leg and her shoulder just adding insult to injury.

“Jolie? Are you alright?” Ryan’s voice cuts through the haze of pain and she shakes her head, forcing herself to take a deep, if shaky, breath.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” He asks, dropping whatever he was holding and making his way over to his friend’s side.

“Knee,” she gasps, gritting her teeth as the throbbing sensation intensifies. 

“Alright … erm, let’s get you sitting down. That’ll help,” he decides, moving a chair directly behind Jolie and looping his arms under hers to help control her descent.

She lands in the chair entirely inelegantly, but it is a relief and the stabbing ache starts to subside a little as soon as there is no weight being put through it. It still hurts horribly, though, and she swears under her breath when she shifts and she aggravates it even more.

“Do we have ice?” she asks, squeezing her eyes shut again. 

“Erm … I don’t think so,” Ryan says.

“Ahh.”

“Do you need some?”

“Ideally,” Jolie replies, looking up at him.

“Oh, I could go and ask at the farmhouse!” Ryan offers, and Jolie nods.

“I’ll be right back, sit tight,” he instructs, and Jolie rolls her eyes. It’s not like she’s going to be going far, her crutches are in her and Yaz’s sleeping pod, and she’s probably too dizzy to stand up even if she wanted to.

She had woken up in the early hours with the start of the pain, and really she had not been surprised, the last three days of the trip having really taken a toll on the injury. She had opted not to tell Yaz, convinced that it was just phantom pain and knowing she would only worry. So she had tried to ride it out, dozing fitfully until the sun rose and the rest of their small group woke up. 

Unfortunately, the pain had only intensified in the last four hours or so, and now she feels that trying to put weight on it may have just been the tipping point.

Ryan gets back quickly, and she breathes a sigh of relief as he helps her prop her leg up on another chair and it starts to ease further, and then more when Ryan hands her a bag of ice cubes wrapped in a towel and rolls up her pyjama leg so she can hold it to the joint. She shivers with the cold, but it helps immensely, so she keeps it in place and shoots Ryan a grateful smile.

“Where’s Yaz?,” he asks, settling down in the chair next to Jolie’s and leaning forwards with his forearms on his knees.

“Walk with Clara,” she replies. “And Danny’s off somewhere in a huff.”

“Sorry about him,” Ryan grimaces, shrugging his shoulders.

“S’fine. I don’t know what his problem is but it’s not your fault. And I know you went and had a word with him on my birthday, so thank you, really.”

“Ahh, it was nothing — wait, how did you know that?” He asks.

Jolie laughs at his confused expression, shifting in her chair and then thinking better of it when it pulls at her knee.

“Ow."

“Sit still, will you?”

Jolie sticks her tongue out childishly at Ryan, and he chuckles. “Nah, but you two disappeared after we had had brunch and then you came back and he was all subdued and didn’t say anything else to me, so I’m presuming you had words with him.”

Ryan nodded. “You’re right. He was way out of order, and you’re my friend, so he was never going to get away with it.”

“Thanks,” Jolie smiles, leaning back in her chair and experimentally removing the ice. Her knee isn’t swollen but it is red, although she assumes the redness is from the temperature of the ice rather than any injury. Or at least, she hopes so.

“Did this just happen when you stood up?” He asks, pointing to her knee.

Jolie shakes her head. “It’s been hurting for a bit, think all the walking and sleeping on the floor and up and down off the ground has taken its toll.” There’s a regretful tone to her voice, and Ryan is having none of it. In his opinion, she has handled everything this trip has thrown at them amazingly well, and he feels a strange sense of brotherly pride. But there is also a layer of concern to his emotions.

“Jolie, how long is ‘a while’?” he asks, raising his eyebrows.

“Not  _ that _ long,” she tries to reason, but of course, she does not get away with it.

“Jolie, I will full name you if necessary.”

_ “Fine,”  _ she whines with a pout. “Since about three o’clock this morning,” she mutters, not looking Ryan properly, but she can tell what his face will look like anyway.

“Jolie! That’s more than four hours! Did you tell Yaz? I’m guessing not, since she left you to go on a walk with Clara.”

“No…”

“Oh for — I swear you two are going to be the death of me. You’re telling her when she gets back, no arguments.”

“I thought it were phantom pain, Ryan! And she needed the sleep, she was exhausted because she was up with me the night before!”

“Fine, but you’re telling her when they get back, or I will.”

Jolie rolls her eyes but she doesn’t protest, she knows she should have told Yaz from the start, but she didn’t want to feel like a burden, much like she has for the past three and a half months.

“You know, you’re like the really annoying brother I never had sometimes,” she grumbles, not maliciously, tilting her head to one side.

“Funny you say that, because you’re kinda like my sister,” he grins, and Jolie reflects it. “I know I annoy you sometimes, and believe me it’s usually on purpose, but it’s brotherly love.”

“Well I’m glad to be your honorary sister,” Jolie says sincerely, her eyes welling up a little but she blinks away the moisture before Ryan can see it. Or maybe he does see, and simply chooses not to mention it.

“Ditto. And now, in true brotherly fashion, I’m going to leave you to have your lovers’ quarrel on your own.”

Jolie twists around to look out the opening of the tent, and sure enough, Yaz and Clara are making their way back across the field towards the tent. She tries to reach out and catch Ryan’s arm to force him to stay, but he’s too quick and darts past her and out the door with a laugh.

* * *

An hour later, the small group are sitting on a low stone wall by the harbour, clutching their tickets for the boat trip out to the Farne Islands that they booked yesterday. Jolie is thankful that Yaz hadn’t been too upset with her when she told her that her knee is acting up. She was more concerned that Jolie had felt the need to try and hide it from her, and had spent a good twenty minutes or so trying to convince the blonde that she should never feel like a burden, and that they had agreed all those months ago to share their problems and concerns with each other rather than trying to deal with things alone. Eventually, Jolie had conceded, but her mood is still slightly dampened by the fact that she has to use both crutches today and therefore she cannot walk hand in hand with Yaz. It is not like she hasn’t had plenty of other opportunities, but she has gotten used to it, so to not have it, even if it is just for a day while she can’t put any weight through her leg, is not a lot of fun.

Apparently Yaz notices her sour expression, because she nudges her in the side gently to capture her attention.

“Y’okay, hummingbird? Any more pain?” She asks, squeezing her upper thigh. It’s a bit cooler today, especially since they are heading out onto the water, so Jolie had opted for loose cuffed jeans rather than the shorts she had worn during the rest of the week, and as such Yaz can’t trace her fingers between the three moles and the smattering of freckles that look like a smiley face as she normally would.

“Not any more than it was,” she reassures, catching Yaz’s hand and squeezing it tightly. Yaz raises an eyebrow.

“Promise,” she reiterates, subconsciously rubbing her thumb over the back of Yaz’s hand. The familiar dips and bumps of bones and tendons are comforting.

“Wait, babe. Are you grumpy because you can’t hold my hand properly today?” Yaz teases, gently, returning the squeeze in jest.

“Maybe,” she grumbles, blushing deeply at being caught out.

“Aww, you’re cute,” she grins, bumping shoulders.

“M’not.”

“Yeah, you are. You can hold my hand whenever we sit down, and in the car the whole way home,” she reasons, just as Ryan gives a fake wretch from Jolie’s other side.

“Ryan, shut up. Yaz, thank you,” Jolie gloats, leaning into her girlfriend happily and snaking an arm around her waist.

“He’s just jealous because he’s the only single one,” Clara pipes up, and the others, apart from Ryan, burst out laughing.

“That was a low blow, Clara,” Yaz grins, and Ryan just scowls at them all.

“Well, Yaz, if you would just give me your sister’s number, then I might not be so lonely anymore.”

Thankfully, Ryan is saved from any scathing reply Yaz can come up with by the sound of an airhorn, signalling the arrival of their transport out to the islands.

The group stand, Yaz giving Jolie a pull to her feet, and they make their way over to the ramp that will lead them down to the boat. Yaz hangs back to make sure Jolie gets down in one piece; the ramp is steep and uneven in places, and somehow she thinks that tumbling down it and falling into the harbour would not be an ideal end to their trip.

However, when they join the queue and move to the front, Jolie stops in her tracks, eyeing the bobbing boat with trepidation.

“Yaz, how the hell am I supposed to get on that thing?” She asks, frowning in panic at the situation she had forgotten to think about that morning, and now there are just too many variables for her to consider.

“S’alright, we’ll manage,” Yaz reassures, squeezing her shoulder. She pauses for a moment to assess the situation before turning back to her girlfriend. “Right, team effort. If the others go in first, you can pass your crutches down and they’ll be there to catch you just in case. Use the handrails for balance and swing yourself down, I’ll keep you steady from behind.”

Jolie still looks unsure, so Yaz reaches up to kiss her on the cheek, which she leans into happily, before they move forward in the queue again. When they get to the front, Yaz explains the plan to their group and they work together, the skipper of the boat kindly trying to hold it as steady as he can on the water to make the situation easier. Yaz holds her waist from behind to keep her steady when she passes her crutches down, and then lets go when she uses the handrails to swing herself forwards and then hop down until she reaches the bottom where this time she is held steady by Clara as she pivots onto the bench seat right at the bottom of the steep stairs. The rest of the group join her and soon enough the boat is pulling away from the harbour and out into open water.

* * *

It turns out that getting off a boat while you can only use one leg is a lot harder than getting on one, and Yaz ends up half-lifting her over the edge and onto dry land, much to Jolie’s embarrassment. Although according to Yaz their trip across was much smoother than the one they had taken two years previous, poor Clara still doesn’t seem to have dealt too well with an hour on the sea. She is looking very green as she slowly sips at a bottle of water at the end of the landing.

Jolie and Yaz start to move first, knowing that the others will catch up to them in no time given how slowly they are making progress. They have landed on the Inner Farne island, one of three in the collection of fifteen to twenty islands (tide depending) that are open to the public, and there is a short, concrete path from the landing to the chapel. However, the ground is extremely uneven thanks to years of footfall and harsh weathering, and Jolie is grateful that Yaz’s hand is hovering at her waist, ready to catch her if she falls.

She picks her way carefully up the narrow path, the chapel their goal destination. In theory, the floors inside should be fairly even and there will be places to sit down. Finally they make it to the chapel and discover, to their delight, that there is also a small information centre as well as some bird-watching huts where they can sit and take in the local wildlife.

“Hi there, how are you doing today?” A cheery older woman asks as they step through the open doorway of the information centre. Her face creases as she grins at the two new arrivals.

“We’re doing good, thank you,” Jolie replies, rocking backwards and forwards on her crutches in a nervous tick she seems to have developed since she started using them. Not that she is anxious as such, more so that this is a new person and talking to people is not one of her skills. 

“How are you?” Yaz asks, keeping the conversation flowing when Jolie simply forgets that it’s a general rule to ask that question back.

“I’m doing well, thank you. You’re brave coming out here on crutches though!” She remarks, thankfully not rudely, but in genuine surprise. Jolie supposes that it’s not a particularly common sight out here.

“We’d been planning this trip for a while and I didn’t want to miss out on the opportunity,” the blonde explains, eyes wandering over the informational posters stuck to one wall inside the little hut. “We’re not planning on going much further than the chapel though, but our friends are headed that way.”

“Well, you’re in luck. The wildlife watching huts we have here have a really good view of our puffins and our seals today! Would you like me to show you down there?” She asks, already stepping out from behind her little desk. As she gets closer, Jolie can see that her name badge reads  _ Dawn. _

Jolie glances over at Yaz for confirmation, and she gives a small nod and a smile.

“That sounds great, thank you,” Jolie agrees, following the older woman out of the little hut and down a gentle slope. Yaz sticks close by, unobtrusively hovering as they move slowly.

As she leads them down towards the huts, Dawn keeps the conversation flowing with ease.

“Are you here on holiday?” She asks, turning back to look at the young couple.

“Yeah, camping trip with friends, we’re going home today though,” Yaz replies.

“Oh, very nice. Where’s home, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Sheffield,” Jolie answers this time, pausing momentarily to assess the next, trickier section is path before they start to move again.

“Oh, very nice! My niece goes to university there,” she beams.

“Us too,” Jolie answers. “Well, I just graduated and Yaz has a year left.”

“Congratulations…”

“Jolie,” Yaz supplies with a nod of the head when her girlfriend misses another social cue.

“Mmhmm?” The blonde answers distractedly.

“I were just telling the woman your name, she asked,” Yaz explains.

“Oh! Right, thanks Yaz. Sorry, I’m not always the best with social cues.” Jolie shrugs awkwardly, but thankfully the woman does not seem to mind.

“Right, here we are,” she says as they come to a stop. “You’ll have a good view of the puffin and seal colonies today, there are some informational booklets and posters you can have a look at in there. If you have any questions I’ll just be back in the information centre, please feel free to ask!”

She bids them goodbye with a cherry wave before she begins to make her way back up the path. Yaz and Jolie watch for a moment before heading into the hit, Yaz holding open the heavy wooden door to let Jolie through, the noise of her crutches much louder against the raised wood of the three small steps up.

Inside, the hut is warm and smells a little musty but it’s surprisingly spacious and there’s a long bench seat facing out through a strip of low, narrow windows. Yaz slips into the seat first before helping Jolie in next to her. They settle in, leaning forwards slightly so they can both see out the windows.

“This says here that puffins are sometimes known as sea parrots here in Northumberland,” Jolie laughs, flicking through a booklet lying on the little shelf in front of them.

“Really?”

“Yeah! And that — woah! — some of them could be up to thirty years old!”

“Oh wow. Does it say what a group of puffins is called?” Yaz asks, flicking through her own booklet.

“It doesn’t, but I do happen to know that already,” Jolie grins, raising her eyebrows.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah. They can be called a colony, a puffinry, a circus, a burrow, a gathering or an improbability,” she reels off, raising a finger for each item in the list before returning her attention to the windows.

“I love it when you infodump on me,” Yaz says, looking at her adoringly.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Never stop the infodumping, babe.”

They return to their wildlife watching, giggling at the way the puffins waddle across the mounds of grass, and then the seals further in the distance who haul themselves along the rocks until they flop into the water.

“I can’t see those seals properly,” Jolie grumbles a short time later, frowning at Yaz.

“Yeah, ‘cause your glasses are covered in seaspray you peanut,” Yaz teases, and Jolie sticks her tongue out childishly.

“You’re the peanut,” she grumbles playfully as she plucks her glasses from her face and scrubs at them with the sleeve of her hoodie.

“Better?” She asks, pushing them back onto her nose and scrunching her face up at Yaz.

“Beautiful,” Yaz teases, kissing the tip of her nose before resting her chin on her shoulder and enjoying their peace and quiet.

* * *

They’re packing up the last of their stuff, the tent being taken down as the last step while Jolie sits on the edge of the boot of the car, watching the process as she collapses the tent poles that Yaz has just handed her. She can see Danny watching her critically every time she looks up, and it’s grating on her nerves. She wants to help, but it’s not like she can, and the way he keeps staring at her is just really rubbing in that fact. 

She finishes collapsing the tent poles and tucks them into their little drawstring bag before looking back up to see Danny striding towards her with a dark look on his face. She really doesn’t know what his problem with her is, whether it stems from her accident and the knock-on effects, or if he had a problem with her before that. There is really no way to tell without asking him, since they hadn’t really known each other that well beforehand, and Jolie is certainly not about to do that.

“You need to come and help us with the tent,” he instructs, and Jolie frowns at him.

“I can’t, Danny.” She indicates her crutches resting against the side of the car.

“Oh come on, we all know you’re milking it. You’ve been fine all the other days and now the day we actually have to do stuff you suddenly can’t do anything? Yeah, sounds plausible.” Danny’s voice is mocking, and Jolie simply stares at him for a second for lack of an ability to come up with a response.

“Danny, I’m serious. I really can’t,” she repeats, wishing it would be easier for her to stand up and be eye level with him. She reaches for her crutches, and with a bit of a struggle, hauls herself to her feet. Now she is eye level with him and far too close, forcing him to take a step back.  _ Good,  _ she thinks.

“Danny, I’ve been up since three o’clock this morning in pain with this. I am  _ not  _ milking it. Trust me, I would love to ditch these things and help you all out, but I can’t right now, so you’re just going to have to get over yourself and deal with it. If there’s anything I can do sitting on the edge of the boot, let me know and I will gladly help. I just can’t stand and help you all. Alright?”

She stares him down with a look a lot more confident than she feels until he tuts and spins on his heel, stalking back towards the group. Jolie is shaking a little so she lowers herself back to the lip of the boot, taking a few steadying breaths. Although, she realises, it feels good to quite literally stand up for herself. She catches Yaz’s eye and her girlfriend mouths a “you okay?” at her. Jolie nods and offers a thumbs up, grinning in pride at herself.

* * *

“Jolie? Jo, babe. Wake up we’re home.”

Jolie grumbles with a yawn, but the gentle jostling of her shoulder doesn’t stop so she reluctantly opens her eyes, confused when what comes into her vision is the dusty pink of Yaz’s t-shirt and the dark blue denim of her jeans. She scrunches her face up in confusion, peeling her cheek away from Yaz’s shoulder and rubbing her face.

“You feel asleep after we left the service station,” Yaz explains, and Jolie nods with another yawn, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“What time s’it?”

“About half past six, quarter to seven.”

“Hmm,” she mumbles. Clearly she needed the sleep, but she also has a feeling that she is going to be in for a late night with how late she has napped. 

“Why’re you smiling at me?”

“You look really cute and soft when you’re all sleepy and you’re wearing my hoodie,” Yaz says gently. “That, and you’ve got a crease in your cheek from my top,” she teases, and Jolie rolls her eyes before she sits up properly.

“Hmm. Thanks for letting me nap on you.”

“Anytime. Although it might have been a bit my fault, I was playing with your hair and I reckon that sent you to sleep.”

“Probably.”

“Should we get inside then? Let the others get home?”

Jolie nods just as Clara speaks up from Yaz’s other side. “Yes, please let us avoid your snoring.”

“I don’t snore!” Jolie protests indignantly, and Yaz bursts out laughing.

“Yeah, you do. A  _ lot,”  _ she informs her, and Jolie groans.

“Yaz, I’m so sorry.”

“S’fine, I quite like it actually.”

“Yeah, she called you her own personal white noise machine one time.”

“Thanks, Clara.”

Jolie snickers and then reaches over to open her door, shuffling over so she’s sitting sideways and then bending down and grabbing her crutches from the footwell before hauling herself to her feet. Yaz follows and then Ryan gets out too so he can help them take all their stuff back up.

They each grab as much as they can to take upstairs and Jolie feels herself breathe a sigh of relief as they step through their front door. As much as she has enjoyed the camping trip, she is looking forward to being home so she can be quiet for a couple of days and sleep in a proper bed until she and Yaz start the chaotic process of moving into their new flat. They thank Ryan for his help and as soon as he leaves, Jolie collapses dramatically down on the sofa with a groan.

“You alright, babe?” Yaz asks, sitting down next to her and resting a hand on her thigh. Jolie takes it and squeezes gently.

“Yeah. Just glad we can be quiet for a bit.”

Yaz nods in understanding, kissing her forehead gently and then allowing Jolie to rest her head against her shoulder.

“What do you want to do for dinner?” The blonde asks, and Yaz shrugs.

“Not sure, not that hungry. I had quite a lot to eat at the service station but it wasn’t a whole meal,” she muses, and Jolie hums in affirmation. It has been a weird day of snacking intermittently rather than eating any full meals. It has confused Jolie to no end, she prefers to keep her mealtimes ordered so she does not lose track of time. But that combined with her impromptu afternoon nap has sent her sense of time haywire, and it is making her head hurt.

“Ooh, I’m pretty sure we still have spaghetti hoops! And bread, and butter!” She grins, and Yaz raises her eyebrows.

“You’re such a big kid,” she grins, ruffling her hair affectionately and causing it to stick up in even more directions that it was already.

“Yaz!” She wines, trying to fend her off, only slightly successfully.

“You can’t tell me you don’t love a bit of spaghetti on toast,” she pouts, and Yaz concedes.

“You’ve got me there. I’ll start unpacking if you make food?” She proposes, and Jolie agrees.

They work and eat quickly, and soon enough, they both find themselves in the bath, Yaz settled between Jolie’s legs and leaning back contentedly with her head on her chest.

“This is much nicer than those crappy showers,” she muses, tracing her fingers up and down Yaz’s arm, resting her chin atop her head.

“Yeah,” she hums, mirroring Jolie’s ministrations on her arm up and down her girlfriend’s leg, taking care to avoid the sensitive scars on her knee.

“D’you want me to wash your hair?”

“You don’t have to,” Yaz tries to protest, but Jolie is having none of it.

“I want to. You’ve been really good to me, let me return the favour even just a little, babe.”

“It wouldn’t be a little bit. My hair is really complicated to wash when it gets this curly,” she tries to reason, but Jolie is persistent.

“Teach me, then. Now stop complaining and pass your shampoo.”

She taps Yaz’s shoulder to get her to sit forward a bit and then begins the process of washing her girlfriend’s hair, Yaz guiding her through it. She is right; having it dry naturally while they were away combined with the sea air has brought out her natural, tightly coiled curls. Jolie does not entirely understand why Yaz doesn’t let her hair behave naturally more often, surely it is a lot less time consuming than the hours it normally takes her to tame it into a softer style. Then again, Jolie has considerably less hair and it tends to go wavy and curl under at the ends when she lets it dry naturally, which is most of the time, whereas Yaz has much more intense, almost ringlets.

When she finishes, she washes her own hair much more quickly and a lot less meticulously; she knows she should probably look after it a little better, but she is usually too impatient and rarely uses any heat on it so in all honesty, it’s not that bad.

After their bath, they make it into bed immediately, both of them exhausted and looking forward to a good night’s sleep in a proper bed. But, lying with her head on Yaz’s chest and her legs curled around her, Jolie finds that she cannot sleep. Apparently Yaz notices, because she leans down to kiss the crown of her head and begins to run her fingers through her hair, scratching at her scalp in a way that she knows Jolie finds comforting.

She finds her mind wandering, thinking of the route they had driven to get to the campsite four days previous and then back again. She thinks of a certain exit from the road, one she had missed on the way home because exhaustion had pulled her into a light slumber.

“You okay?” Yaz murmurs, pausing the movement of her fingers.

Jolie hums noncommittally, toying with the drawstring on her joggers.

“Talk to me.”

“I was thinking.”

“Oh, that’s dangerous,” Yaz jokes, and Jolie makes her offence known with a soft elbow to the ribs.

“Oi! But I was kind of thinking about my grandma.”

“Yeah?” Yaz asks, prompting her to continue but not forcing her to talk if she doesn’t want to.

“It’s been five years now, and I haven’t been back in a long time. I think I want to go, There’s just a lot of stuff happening at the moment, and I feel like I need to go again. Does that make sense?” She’s fiddling even more with her drawstring now, her heart hammering in her chest as she sits up to look at Yaz.

“Yeah, I think it does.”

“Would you come with me?” Jolie asks, in a tiny and tentative voice. “I don’t think I could really go on my own,” she admits.

“Of course I will. Did you have an idea in mind of when you want to go?”

Jolie nods, swallowing the lump in her throat before she speaks again. “Yeah. This weekend, maybe? I know it’s sudden and I know it’ll take up all of your day but I think I really want to go now, before we move and I start my new job and stuff and mostly before I chicken out. I think I need to go back but it’s honestly terrifying.”

She breaks off, breathing hard and eyes wide as she stares at Yaz.

“Of course we can. I have to work on Saturday and then I have judo class, but we can go on Sunday?” She proposes, and Jolie nods softly before all the nervous energy seems to leave her body in one go and she leans forward to rest her head against Yaz’s. Yaz takes initiative to slide them both under the duvet, tucking them in tight and wrapping her legs and arms around Jolie in a fashion that the blonde has dubbed a ‘koala hug’. She very quickly decides it’s her favourite way to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, please consider leaving a comment if you have the time, I really appreciate it and they make my day!
> 
> See you next time :)
> 
> Chapter title source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KwYVUVpypK8  
> Playlist for this fic: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0T2wY8WE7DwBZGH1Ui0agQ  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_  
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Discord: doodlesimss#8487


	23. I Know It Hurts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jolie visits her home town, and finally faces up to the grief she's been running from for years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I never planned to include this chapter in this fic. I planned to go straight from the end of their camping trip to them moving house, but I felt like this was something I needed to write for Jolie.  
> A fair warning, this chapter focuses entirely on grief, so it's a sad one. I did cry while writing parts of this, so I would advise reading this somewhere quieter!  
> Regardless, I hope you enjoy the chapter. I'm a bit nervous to share it because it's just an emotional and difficult topic, but it should be talked about more, and so here we are!  
> Big thank you to WalkerLister and anobii1992 for listening to my rambling about this chapter and helping me to figure things out!

“Jolie, we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” Yaz says softly from the driver’s seat. They have just completed the hour-long drive from Sheffield to Jolie’s home town, and the blonde had been virtually silent the whole way, apart from giving Yaz directions. Yaz would normally be worried by her silence, but today she had expected it; this is a huge deal for Jolie, and Yaz is along for whatever emotionally heavy ride she is about to take them both on.

“I have to Yaz. I just feel so  _ sick,”  _ she says, leaning forwards to rest her arms on the dashboard, and then her head on her arms.

Yaz reaches over and rubs her back sympathetically. She cannot even begin to imagine the myriad of emotions fighting for purchase in her girlfriend’s head at this very moment.

“How long has it been since you’ve been back?” 

“Four years,” Jolie answers, taking a shaky breath. “After the service, I moved away pretty fast and took a gap year. House got sold, not like I could have afforded to keep living there. Gran’s friend took care of all that. I came back after a year, right before I started university, but it just felt  _ wrong.  _ There were so many pitying looks, so many people wanted to know how I was doing, what I was up to, but I just couldn’t answer. So I left, I ran, and I haven’t been back since,” she divulges, sitting back and running her hands over her face.

“Jolie, you’re in control of this day. If you need a time out, just tell me. If you want me to step in, tell me. If you want to go home, we can do that. I think you’re incredibly brave and strong for choosing to come back here. But you’re not doing this alone, and I’m going to be right here for you, alright?”

Jolie nods turning to face Yaz, but her nod is unsure.

“It’s still scary,” she admits, tucking her hair behind her ears.

“And that’s okay. You’re allowed to feel however you want, okay babe?”

Jolie nods again before wiping under her eyes with her fingers and sitting up a little straighter.

“Okay. I can do this. Let’s go,” she decides suddenly, opening the car door and using the edge for leverage to stand up. Yaz follows quickly, shutting her own door and hurrying over to loop her arm through Jolie’s for support, both moral and physical. Yaz has forced her to rest up since they got back from their camping trip, so whatever she had aggravated in her knee has mostly calmed down. She’s rid of her crutches again, but there’s a slight limp to her step and she’s leaning on Yaz a little as they make their way into town.

They walk slowly down the main road, Yaz keeping a tight hold on her girlfriend. It’s a pretty place, a large village with traditionally built shops lining the ‘high street’, and alleyways between buildings leading to small streets lined with quaint cottages branching out from the centre of town. There are some larger, more modern houses back where they parked, but the main bulk of the town is old. To Yaz, it looks like something straight out of a period drama.

They make it about halfway down the high street before Jolie stops them in their tracks, staring down a side street.

“You okay?” Yaz checks, squeezing her arm.

Jolie nods, swallowing visibly and continuing to stare down the street.

“Old house is down there,” she states, chewing her lip.

“You want to go and see?”

“Please.”

Jolie slowly leads the way down the side street, taking care over some of the uneven paving before they emerge out of the narrow alleyway onto a wide street. Yaz follows as she leads them down, then between two houses, and then back onto another street. Well, it’s more of a cul-de-sac, the road to it leading down towards some fields and a small wooded area. Jolie stops, staring straight ahead of her.

“That one there, the one with the ivy and the purple pansy flowers in the garden,” she says, pointing to the house in question. Yaz turns to look, and has to stop herself from gasping at the beautiful simplicity of the building. Behind a picket fence, a stone path leads to the pale green front door set back into the thick, off-white walls of the bungalow. Although, on a second look, Yaz realises that there is actually an attic floor, a window nestled into the roof. The whole thing is covered in ivy, making it look a little bit like it is out of a fairytale.

“That was my bedroom there, that window in the roof. I loved it,” she whispers, instinctively holding onto Yaz a little bit tighter.

“I always wanted one of those attic bedrooms with the sloped ceilings when I were younger,” Yaz smiles.

“It has a sloped ceiling, I decorated it with fairy lights and pictures and stuff when I moved in. Seven year old me loved it. Still think I’d love it now, to be honest.”

Yaz looks at her quizzically, slightly confused. “I thought your parents passed away when you were a toddler?” She probes gently, resting her head against Jolie’s shoulder.

“Yeah, when I was three. Bounced around foster homes for a while though, and then I eventually settled with my gran. Not at first because my social worker thought she wouldn’t be fit to look after a hyperactive toddler, but I didn’t do well in foster homes or a group home so they eventually sent me here,” she divulges, going quiet again. 

Yaz tries not to show her surprise, despite the fact that this is all new information to her. From what Jolie had told her, Yaz had presumed that she had lived with her Gran for most of her childhood, except as a baby, but now she knows that that is not the case and it confuses her. Although, she muses, it may explain why she does not do well with new people, if the majority of her early childhood had been spent meeting new family after new family and not really settling anywhere for a significant amount of time, depriving her of that opportunity early on to learn how to make connections. She has so many questions, but they would be better saved for a later date.

“Does the house still look the same?” She asks, partially out of interest and partially to help Jolie process her thoughts.

“Mostly. Bit less ivy, garden’s a bit more overgrown. The purple pansies are still there though.” Yaz notices that she smiles at the last statement, and she squeezes her hand.

“Do you like the purple pansies?”

“Yeah, they were gran’s favourite. God, she absolutely loved her garden, took such pride in it, but the purple pansies were always her favourite.”

Yaz just nods and kisses Jolie’s cheek before turning to look back at the house, allowing the other woman the time to reminisce and remember the years she spent living here. Yaz gazes at the house, the garden, and tries to imagine a young Jolie living there; her face peering out the attic window, playing in the front garden, coming home from school. In that moment she resolves that, if Jolie wants it, she will try her hardest to help her reconnect with all the memories she has here.

“I think I’m ready to head to the cemetery now,” she announces nervously a few minutes later, fiddling with the hem of her jacket.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’d like to stop off on the way though, buy some flowers to leave if that’s okay.”

“Of course it is,” Yaz confirms, pressing another kiss to her cheek before they slowly set back off in the direction of the high street.

* * *

Yaz can feel the anxiety rolling off her partner in waves as they near the cemetery. One of Jolie’s hands is still grasped in Yaz’s tightly, her palm slick and slippery while the other grips onto a large bunch of flowers that she had picked out from the corner shop. It had seemed that the shop owner recognised Jolie somewhat, but the blonde had brushed it off, saying that he must have been mistaking her for someone else, and Yaz had not passed comment, it hadn’t been her place to do so.

They make their way through the simple but pretty gates, Jolie moving slowly but surely and Yaz sticks right beside her. Yaz worries that she is being overly protective, smothering her, but at the same time she doesn’t want Jolie to feel like she’s in this all on her own. It’s a fine line to tread.

Jolie stops suddenly, Yaz almost stumbling and taking her down with her as she is pulled out of her daydreams by the abruptness.

“Okay?” She checks, but Jolie’s eyes are glossy and staring straight ahead.

“What’s the matter, hummingbird?”

“Someone already left flowers,” she whispers hoarsely, pointing at the line of headstones. Yaz looks, and there are several adorned with flowers, so she cannot tell which one Jolie is talking about, but she nods along anyway.

“Someone left flowers already and it wasn’t me,” she says again, and her face crumples as she turns to look at Yaz.

“Come here.”

Yaz opens her arms and lets Jolie fall into them, holding her and rubbing her back firmly while she cries into her shoulder.

“It should’ve been me who left the flowers Yaz, it should’ve been me.” She says when she straightens up, chewing on the knuckle of her thumb. Yaz reaches up to draw the hand into her own, intertwining their fingers and squeezing gently.

“Hey, look at me,” she commands gently, waiting until Jolie looks at her.

_ “Someone _ has been leaving flowers, and it’s okay that it wasn’t you. I know you care about her, that’s all that matters. You don’t have to prove that to anyone, you can still add your flowers too. Do you need a moment before we go over there or are you good?”

Jolie considers it for a moment, chewing her lip as she glances over.

“No. I can go over,” she decides eventually.

Yaz lets Jolie walk them over until she comes to a stop in front of a small, simple headstone. Yaz pauses to read it while she allows Jolie the space she needs to process.

***

_ Dorothy Elliot _

_ 1940 - 2015 _

_ Loving mother, grandmother and member of the community _

_ Gone but never forgotten _

***

Looking at the inscription, Yaz surmises that she must have been her maternal grandmother, judging by the different surname. And that it had been five years almost to the day. That would explain why Jolie was so sudden in her decision to visit.

“Can you balance me?” She asks tentatively, gesturing at the stone with her bunch of flowers.

Yaz nods and grips her elbow while she bends down and arranges her flowers next to the other ones, making sure that the purple ones in the bunch are at the top. Perhaps they should have bought something to put them in, but they didn’t, so they will have to make do.

“I think I’d like to talk to her. Is that weird?” Jolie asks, scrunching her face up in confusion as she turns to Yaz.

“Not at all. You see that bench under that tree over there?” She asks, pointing. “I’ll go and sit there, give you some privacy. But I’m here if you need me.”

Jolie nods gratefully and Yaz helps her sit down on the grass before she wanders off, settling down on the bench in the shade. She rests her chin on steepled hands, and despite herself she can’t help but overhear in the quiet graveyard.

“Hiya, gran. I’m sorry I haven’t been back for so long, I don’t really have a reason other than I was scared. I miss you so much, more than I can put into words, but I’m so much happier than I was last time I came. So much has happened.

I did go to university, I just graduated actually, with a first, you’d be so proud. I were in York for the first three years, but I didn’t like it much there. The city was nice and everything, but I just didn’t really fit in. I didn’t even realise transferring was an option until third year, and then I moved to Sheffield, so I’m not that far away from you now. I’m sorry I never visited, I want to make more of an effort to do that now.

Sheffield is so much better though. I actually met someone really amazing there, you would love her. She’s called Yasmin, Yaz for short, and she’s one of the best people I’ve ever met. I love her so much, she just  _ gets me,  _ gran. I don’t think I ever want to spend another day without her. I wish you could have known her, but I’m so happy I met her regardless. She’s an amazing woman, and we just fit together. Her friends are incredible too, they’re my friends now too and it makes me so happy to be a part of something.”

Yaz watches as Jolie pauses for a moment, plucking a blade of grass between her fingertips and wrapping it around and around until it snaps.

“I … erm … I actually had an accident almost four months ago now. I got hit by a car when I crossed a road. I looked both ways before I crossed, I swear, but it just came out of nowhere. I got hurt really bad, gran, and I was so scared. All I could think was that I wanted you, but I couldn’t have you.”

She breaks off into a sob, unsuccessfully trying to muffle the sound with her fist, and it takes every ounce of Yaz’s willpower to stay put and not go to her. She simply watches as Jolie composes herself until she is able to speak again.

“But I had Yaz, she was there from the second she found out and she never left my side. She moved in to look after me, she stuck with me when I was scared, angry, frustrated with myself. She was amazing with me when I had to have surgery and my head was all over the place, she was amazing after that. We’re moving in together properly in a couple of weeks actually, I’m really excited. I’ve got a good job too, things are looking up, gran. I’m happy. I just wish you were here to see it.”

She breaks off again, and this time it doesn’t seem like she is able to pick back up again. Although it seemed at though the one-sided conversation had drawn to a natural close. She turns to look at Yaz with tears streaming down her face, a quivering bottom lip, and Yaz’s resolve crumbles into dust on the ground. She makes her way over as quickly as she can to sink down beside her and draw her in close, cradling her head and rocking them both gently. Jolie clings on for dear life as she cries into her shoulder, letting all of her emotions pour out of her. Yaz knows that this is something that has been building under the surface for her for a while, that she needed to do this to finally be at peace with the guilt that has been slowly eating away at her, but it hurts like hell all the same. Yaz finds herself struggling not to cry, her throat aching with the effort, and she buries her face in Jolie’s hair to hide it.

Yaz is not sure how long they sit like that, wrapped around each other, allowing Jolie to release all of her pent-up emotions. Yaz only looks up when she hears an awkward, quiet cough coming from beside them. She continues to hold onto Jolie, rubbing her back, but she looks towards the source of the noise.

There is an older woman there, leaning on a stick and clutching a bright bunch of flowers in the other. Yaz throws her an apologetic smile, and she’s about to get Jolie to shuffle forwards a bit to let the other woman pass by them when her face lights up in surprise.

“Jolie?” She half says, half whispers in disbelief, and the blonde’s head shoots up to regard the other woman.

“Ada?”

Yaz looks between the two of them in confusion; it is obvious that they know each other, and Yaz would assume quite well given that Ada has flowers for Jolie’s grandma’s grave in her hands, but Jolie seems to be a little frozen to the spot.

“It’s nice to see you, lovely. It’s been a while.”

Yaz can  _ hear _ the nerves in the way that Jolie swallows, and she nods, her ear brushing against Yaz’s shoulder where it is still half resting, her body exhausted from all the emotion coursing through it.

“Was it you who brought those flowers?” She asks, gesturing towards the gravestone.

“It was, I’m here to refresh them. I presume those new ones are yours?”

“Yeah,” she nods, momentarily tightening her hold on Yaz. Yaz reciprocates it, offering the comfort she needs.

“I — sorry, we’ll get out of your way,” she stutters, untangling herself from Yaz and trying to push herself to her feet, getting more and more frustrated when she realises that she needs Yaz’s help.

“Hey hey, you’re okay,” Yaz whispers once they’ve stepped back, cupping Jolie’s cheeks. She understands that this must be a huge shock for her, and for the other woman to turn up when Jolie was already feeling vulnerable and upset must be making the whole situation all the more confusing.

“She was my gran’s best friend, she was like a second grandma to me,” she says quietly, holding onto Yaz’s waist as she takes deep breaths. Yaz uses her thumbs to wipe the tears off her face tenderly, letting her process.

“Jolie?”

They both turn to look at Ada, who has finished arranging her flowers and is watching them both.

“I was wondering, would you both like to come back to my house for some tea? You look like you could do with one, and I’d like to catch up.”

Jolie turns back to look at Yaz, who gives her a subtle nod.

“That would be nice, thank you. Is it okay if Yaz comes too?”

Ada can’t help but let out a laugh, and Jolie scrunches her face up in confusion at Yaz.

“Of course it is. I was wondering when you were going to introduce me, mind. I suppose those social skills of yours haven’t gotten much better since you were a teenager?” She teases, and Jolie shakes her head sheepishly.

“They have a little bit,” she reasons, demonstrating by pinching her fingers. 

“You’re still supposed to introduce me,” Yaz whispers in an effort to prompt her.

“Oh! Right, yes. This is Yasmin, my girlfriend. Yaz, this is Ada.”

“It’s lovely to meet you, Yasmin. Shall we get going then? You look like you could do with a nice sit down and a cuppa.”

* * *

Yaz and Jolie follow Ada out of the cemetery to where she has parked her car. Despite her stick, she walks surprisingly quickly and Jolie struggles to keep up a little, exhaustion taking its toll on her already uneasy gait over the wonky flagstone path.

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?” Yaz checks.

Jolie nods, keeping her gaze on the uneven stone underneath. “Yeah. I missed her, and I think we both owe this time to each other and my grandma to try and be back in touch again.”

Yaz nods, understanding. She helps Jolie into the back of the car, and catches Ada giving them a surveying look at the action, but thankfully she does pass comment. Jolie can explain that, if she wants, in her own time.

They arrive at Ada’s house soon enough; it is similar to Jolie’s childhood home except from the lack of an attic window and the organisation of the front garden. 

“Oh, William is here too, Jolie. He’ll be glad to see you, I’m sure!”

A small smile graces her girlfriend’s face at the mention of the name, and Yaz assumes that William is Ada’s husband. She gets out and rounds the car to take Jolie’s hand and lead her up the path and through the front door. She can see that she is getting more and more wobbly, leaning on Yaz more and more, and Yaz is regretting not convincing her to bring her crutches with her. But, Jolie had already been anxious enough about the day, so she hadn’t pushed her.

Inside the house it is cramped and Jolie dithers in panic when she watches Ada sit on the little chair in the corner to take her shoes off, leaving Jolie nowhere to sit herself.

“It’s okay, just wait a second,” Yaz murmurs in her ear, squeezing around her waist a little tighter momentarily in comfort.

Still, Yaz feels more than a little awkward hovering in the doorway as Ada watches them curiously, and she breathes a sigh of relief when she moves into the living room and starts talking to someone, presumably her husband.

Yaz helps Jolie to sit down to remove her shoes while she does the same and then helps her up and move through to the living room. The limp to her step is much more noticeable now as she leans heavily into Yaz, and Yaz just really hopes that they can make it through the rest of this day in one piece and the effects won’t be too long lasting; they are due to move very soon and they should really make a start on packing.

“Jolie, is there something wrong with your leg?” Ada asks as soon as the young couple sink down onto one of the sofas, and Yaz feels her girlfriend stiffen even further beside her.

“Erm, sort of?” She mumbles, almost as though she is questioning herself. She looks to Yaz for reassurance, and Yaz nods in encouragement.

“There was … I — Yaz, can you explain?”

Yaz nods, swallowing her nerves. It is a big thing to explain what happened to her but her girlfriend has put her trust in her and so she must embrace this role.

“Jolie had an accident about four months ago now, she was hit by a car. She got hurt quite badly and among other things she had to have surgery on her knee to repair the ligaments there that were damaged in the accident. But we’ve had a few complications with it and she normally uses crutches to get around, but we thought she would be okay without them today. But I think you’re struggling a bit, aren’t you?” Yaz explains, directing the last part to Jolie.

“Yeah. I have to push myself but it’s hard not to push myself too far.”

Yaz looks up to see Ada and, presumably, William looking at them in a mixture of shock and sympathy.

“That’s awful, chicken, I’m sorry that happened to you. Is there anything we can do at the moment for you?”

Jolie shakes her head, but Yaz butts in, hoping she won’t be offending Jolie. 

“If you have some ice, that would be really helpful probably.”

“I think we do, I can go and check for you.”

“Thank you,” Jolie replies before her posture relaxes back from the way her back has stiffened and she lets out a long sigh.

“Other than that, how are you doing Jolie?” William asks with a smile.

“Good, actually. Really good. I just graduated university, I’ve got a good job that I’m starting soon with a sustainable energy company. Oh, and Yaz and I are moving in together properly in a couple of weeks.”

Yaz feels herself warm with pride as Jolie recites her achievements, and she realises all over again just how incredible she has managed to accomplish so much while having gone through so much trauma in such a short space of time.

“So you’re already living together?” William asks, tilting his head.

“Yeah. Yaz moved in with me when I got hurt to look after me, I was struggling to do a lot of stuff on my own. And then I asked her if we could find a place together when my rent at my current place was up. And then she just sort of never left,” she giggles, and Yaz elbows her in the side.

“I don’t see you complaining about that!”

“Very true, I do quite like having you around.”

“Would you two like a cup of tea?” Ada asks, drawing their conversation to a halt as she pokes her head around the door. Yaz and Jolie look at each other for a moment before a mutual nod, and Jolie turns back towards the old woman.

“That would be lovely, thank you,” she says, a shy but relaxed smile on her face.

“Still an obscene amount of sugars?” She asks.

“Down to three now. Yaz is milk and one sugar,” she supplies, watching Ada go.

“My usual too please, Ada!” William calls after her.

“Babe, how many sugars did it used to be?” Yaz asks, elbowing Jolie lightly in the side as she blushes furiously.

“Five,” William supplies from the sofa opposite them, and Yaz bursts into giggles.

“Five?! How do you have any teeth left?” Yaz teases, unsurprisingly not getting an answer other than Jolie turning to hide her blushing face in her girlfriend’s hair.

“Actually, I think we have chocolate biscuits too,” Ada says suddenly, poking her head around the kitchen door and looking straight at Jolie.

“Ooh, chocolate biscuits!”

“Still a big kid, I see,” she grins before heading back into the kitchen.

“M’not a big kid,” Jolie grumbles under her breath, not actually making much of an effort to defend herself knowing that it is absolutely true.

“Says the person who gave herself a milk moustache with her cereal only this morning.”

“I don’t do that  _ that  _ often,” she protests, her lower lip jutting out slightly.

“Yeah, only every time you eat cereal of any description,” Yaz laughs, and Jolie just pouts further.

Thankfully she is saved from further questioning by Ada, who starts bringing in the cups of tea for their guests, and then the plate of biscuits and a bag of ice for Jolie.

Inevitably, Jolie ends up repeating everything she said to William when Ada asks, and soon enough the conversation moves to what Jolie was like as a child.

“Yasmin, did you know, this one used to spend all of her lunchtimes when she was younger in the little computer lab at the primary school? I was in charge of it and she’s lucky I had a soft spot for her, I didn’t let the other children in there that much!”

“Really, babe?” Yaz smiles, sipping from her mug.

“Hey, I loved that computer lab! I’ve got Ada and William to thank really for where I am now, they really sparked my interest in all that stuff.”

Yaz looks up and she can practically see the pride beaming out of the older couple; it is obvious to Yaz just how much they care for Jolie, and how much they have missed having her around. To effectively lose their best friend and their honorary granddaughter in one fell swoop must have been incredibly hard on them.

“Actually, Jolie, we still have some of your old things in your attic. We kept them when we emptied the house. You didn’t want them at the time but we thought you might like them some day?” Ada says, and Jolie sits up a little.

“I — oh wow. I think I’d like that, if you don’t want to keep it?”

“Of course we don’t. It’s your stuff, we’ve just been looking after it for you. Although it’s in the attic space and I’m not sure if William or I can really get up there very well anymore, our daughter usually comes and does that for us if we need it.”

“I don’t mind going up,” Yaz offers, shrugging her shoulders. She is not a fan of tight spaces, but she also does not want her girlfriend to miss out on the opportunity to regain some of her childhood memories just because nobody could get up.

“Really, Yaz? But you don’t like small spaces.”

“It’s fine, I won’t be up there long,” she reassures, standing up to follow William out of the room.

Luckily the two boxes are easy to find and she retrieves them quickly, putting them down next to Jolie on the sofa while she dusts off her jeans. She sits back down next to her and squeezes her thigh.

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Just feel all … squiggly,” she replies, putting one of the boxes on her lap and running her thumb around the scuffed edges of the lid. Eventually, she lifts it off, and right on the top there is a photograph, presumably of Jolie as a child. She looks to be about nine or ten, holding a huge painting of a rainbow and grinning from ear to ear.

“You look cute there,” Yaz says, hand moving to her lower back in a subtle show of support.

She sets the photograph aside and pulls out a small plastic trophy, a fading sticker stuck to the bottom that reads  _ “Jolie Smith, coding club award”. _

“You were in the coding club?”

“‘Course I was. I were in way too many clubs, gran always used to say I were running around like a headless chicken.”

Yaz giggles at the statement but she is concerned when she realises that her girlfriend’s expression has changed suddenly.

“Are you alright?” She murmurs as Jolie puts the things hurriedly back in the box and replaces the lid.

“Yeah. Just ready to go home now,” she replies as she chews her bottom lip and bounces her good leg so aggressively she makes the sofa wobble.

Across the room, Ada and William give her a sad but knowing smile. The boxes of her childhood memories are where she has hit the limit, where the emotions have become too complicated to process.

“Would you like a lift back to wherever you’ve parked?” Ada asks kindly, already making to stand up.

“If you don’t mind,” Yaz answers, wrapping an arm around Jolie’s shoulders as she continues to stare at her lap. She can sense a bit of a breakdown coming, and she would much rather that happens in privacy.

“Actually, could we exchange phone numbers?” She suddenly says. “I’d like to keep in touch more, I wasn’t exactly great at that before.”

Ada smiles widely and moves over to a side table in the corner of the room, opening the top drawer and pulling out an address book. Jolie gives her her phone number as well as the address of the flat they’re moving to, and Ada does the same while Jolie adds it as a new contact in her phone. Yaz is glad that she is making the effort to rebuild these connections for herself, but she is also aware of how emotionally taxing it is going to be for the first few weeks of communication.

* * *

Back at their car Yaz is far from surprised when, as soon as they shut the doors, Jolie’s carefully constructed walls break down entirely. Awkwardly moving over in the front of the car, Yaz leans over and pulls her into a tight hug, letting her cry onto her shoulder and not for the first time that day.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” she soothes, rubbing her back and running her fingers through her hair.

“I’m so tired,” she whispers eventually, sitting back up a little but still holding onto Yaz. Yaz just nods in understanding, reaching up to wipe her cheeks and then tuck her hair behind her ears.

“It’s all so confusing. I know I needed to stop running from my grief and that’s why I wanted to come back, but I didn’t expect it to be so exhausting. I spent so long talking myself into being able to do this, and still there were things, like Ada and William, that I hadn’t even thought about. And I know it’s good for me to do this, to rebuild those connections, but it’s just so  _ much.” _

Yaz nods and chews her lip in thought.

“I think, in a way, it’s good that you're finding this so hard though. It shows that you really do care and that you want to fix things, and it shows just how much more worthwhile this will all be.”

“I know, I know. It just makes me feel so weak.”

Yaz looks at her properly now, a steely look of determination in her eyes. “Jolene Elizabeth Smith, you are so,  _ so  _ far from weak. What you’ve done today is incredibly strong, because you’ve come here knowing how hard it would be and you’ve let yourself feel all those things. You’re facing your fears and I am so unbelievably proud of you for that. Do not think for  _ one second _ that you are weak.”

Jolie finally offers her a small smile, and Yaz breathes a sigh of relief.

“It’s weird when you use my full name,” Jolie giggles, scrunching her face up.

“Not where I was going with that, you peanut,” Yaz fires back, squeezing her hands.

“On a more serious note, thank you for coming with me today, babe. It really meant a lot. I want to keep doing this, but I think I might need bullying into it somewhat.”

“I’ll be happy to help then,” Yaz smiles, kissing Jolie fleetingly before settling back into her seat and fastening her seatbelt.

“Yaz?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you. So much.”

“I love you so much too, Jo.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for reading! I'm here for chats and virtual hugs. I've also realised Jolie doesn't have any cute nicknames for Yaz and this is a crime, I've decided. Any suggestions would be welcome!!
> 
> Chapter title is a line from this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2Ek9n7B14w8
> 
> I'm going to take a little break from posting this while I finish writing my Alps AU; that one is much shorter but it's on a very strict schedule and I'm falling behind a little bit. So, I want to put all my focus into that and as soon as it's written, I'll dive back into this with my full attention! Regardless, I'm always, _always_ up to chat about Jolie and Yaz, I love them too much!
> 
> See you soon :)


	24. 'Cause I'm Going To Make This Place Your Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jolie and Yaz move into their first flat together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just soft to the next level.  
> CW for panic attack (it's still a soft chapter, though. I swear!)

“Alright, sis?” Sonya snickers as Yaz trudges into the kitchen, yawning impressively and rubbing sleep from her eyes. She makes her way straight to the coffee machine.

“Never share a single bed with my girlfriend,” she grumbles, voice rough with lack of sleep.

“Weren’t planning on it,” she laughs, sipping her own coffee.

“I love her but she does not know the meaning of personal space when she sleeps. I’ll quite happily share a bed with her as long as it’s a double or bigger. I’m a fan of breathing.”

Sonya says nothing, watching with a single raised eyebrow as Yaz pours herself what can only be described as a bowl of coffee. She cannot comment, knowing that she is always the one to sleep in when she has the opportunity. The only reason she is up before Yaz today is because she has an early shift at work.

“Was she not like that when you’ve slept over here together before?” The younger sister muses as Yaz pushes a couple of boxes out of the way and slides into the seat opposite her.

“Well it were winter, so it wasn’t as sticky. I’ve gotten used to sharing a double with her though,” she shrugs.

“God you two are so in love,” Sonya says, her lip curling in fake disgust. But her eyes tell a different story, a story of pride and happiness for her older sister, for her finally finding her person in the world.

“Oh shush. You’ll be rid of us soon.”

They sit in silence for a few moments, enjoying their breakfast until they hear a door creak from further into the flat; it is impossible to tell which room it was, but the click of Jolie’s crutches against the wooden floors gives her away.

“Morning.” 

Yaz smiles as she enters the room, making her way straight for her girlfriend, although she has to navigate the maze of boxes first, and kisses her forehead affectionately.

“Morning, babe. Want some breakfast?” Yaz asks, holding onto her wrist loosely. She just likes to be close to her, really.

“Yeah. What have you got here?” She asks, rocking on her crutches as normal. 

“Cereal, toast, yoghurt, fruit, eggs. The usual stuff. Want me to make it?” Yaz asks, but Jolie shakes her head.

“Nah, s’fine. Enjoy your bowl of coffee,” she beams, making her way over to the fridge while Sonya snickers.

“You gonna tell her?” Her sister mutters, and Yaz scowls at her in place of an answer.

“Tell me what?” The blonde pipes up, turning around with one hand on the counter from where she was rooting through the cereal cupboard.

“Nothing,” Yaz replies. She doesn't want to make Jolie feel bad; they will be spending at least one more night here until they can properly move into their own flat after all.

“Yaz was just saying how … koala like you are in a single bed,” Sonya fills in, and Yaz tips her head back with a groan. Jolie just looks at her curiously, head tilted to one side.

“What d’you mean?”

Yaz sighs, running her thumb over the handle of her mug. “Jo, I love you dearly but sharing a single bed with you is incredibly squishy,” she admits, looking at her girlfriend with a sympathetic look on her face.

The look on Jolie’s face is comical, caught somewhere between despair and confusion that makes it look a little bit like her face is melting.

“Yaz, I’m sorry? Was I lying on top of you?” She asks, distressed.

“A little bit,” Yaz admits, tilting her head. “S’fine though, babe. Single beds aren’t designed for two people.”

Jolie still looks upset so Yaz gets up and winds her arms around her waist, kissing her lightly. Sonya makes a noise of disgust from behind them, which Yaz chooses to pointedly ignore.

“Go on, sit down. I’ll make your breakfast,” she says, pointing towards the table.

“Are you sure?” Jolie checks, rocking subtly again. Yaz can tell she’s anxious, so she squeezes her waist gently in reassurance.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Now sit down and stop complainin’” she teases, and Jolie concedes with an eye roll. She moves over to the table, attempting to balance her crutches against the edge of it, but the rounded shape is tricky and they clatter to the floor, making Sonya wince at the noise on the other side of the table.

“Oops.”

Yaz laughs before turning to pour Jolie a bowl of the cereal she had picked out and getting her a glass of fresh orange juice from the fridge. She puts herself a couple of slices of the bread in the toaster at the same and adds butter and jam before carrying the whole lot back to the table. She has to push more boxes back to make space.

“When did I own so much stuff?” Jolie asks in confusion, looking around the main room of the Khan flat which is filled with stacks of boxes.

“A fair amount of this is mine though, Jo. And you got those extra boxes from Ada the other day,” Yaz reasons.

Jolie just hums in affirmation while she tucks into her cereal, and Yaz doesn’t say anything else, knowing how overwhelmed Jolie is with the whole moving process. Especially with the addition of several more boxes of her childhood possessions that she will have to sort through at some point, sooner rather than later.

“Are you still coming over later to help us start unpacking, Son?” Yaz asks in an attempt to redirect the conversation.

“Yeah, should be finished at work about two-ish. I thought you were painting this morning though?” She says.

Yaz swallows some of her toast and then replies. “Yeah, but it’s only two walls; one in the main room and one in the bedroom. The rest are already white, and Ryan and Clara are coming to help us paint so it shouldn’t take too long. And then we can get the kitchen and bathroom all unpacked today, possibly some other things before the few Ikea bits come tomorrow morning.”

The flat had come mostly furnished and so they had not needed to buy any large pieces of staple furniture, but they had ordered a desk and chair to create a workspace in a nook in the corner of their living room, a bookshelf, coffee table. 

“Cool. Well, I’ve got to get going for work, I’ll see you both later. Oh and Jolie, you’ve got a milk moustache there,” Sonya quips, picking up her bowl and her mug to rinse out before she disappears back to her bedroom.

“Have I?” Jolie asks, turning to Yaz and grinning at her.

“Every time, babe. Every time.”

* * *

A couple of hours later, Jolie and Yaz are standing hand in hand in the shared driveway of their new flat. Jolie’s car, which is really more theirs now that Yaz has been put on the insurance permanently, is parked on the left hand side of the drive next to a small black car, which presumably belongs to their upstairs neighbours. In Yaz’s free hand, she clutches the keys; one for the front door of the building, the other for the door of their flat. They have been here before, of course, and seen it several times, but there is something different now knowing that it is  _ theirs. _

“Ready?” Jolie asks, holding Yaz’s hand tightly with a sparkle in her eyes. They are both dressed in old clothes, hair pulled back from their faces and paint tins in the back of their car as well as many boxes as they could cram in. They ended up not hiring a moving van in the end; they did not have that many big items to move in, and they would be making several trips between their flat and the Khan flat anyway, so it had seemed like a waste of money.

“Yep, let’s do this,” she says, and so they walk forwards together, Yaz unlocking the main door by herself but when they get to their own front door, Jolie places her hand over Yaz’s as she puts the key into the lock and they twist it together, letting the door swing open with a loud squeak of the hinges. Well, at least they will know when someone is coming through it.

They step into the space together, Jolie with one hand on the wall when she falters a little. They simultaneously scrunch their faces up at the ugly lime green colour on one of the living room walls, although thankfully their landlord had given them permission to paint over that as well as the hideous almost neon red wall in their bedroom. Their plan is, with Ryan and Clara’s help, to get the first coat of paint on those two walls this morning, unpack the boxes of kitchen and bathroom things that are currently in the back of their car and then hopefully get a second coat of paint on before they go back to the Khan flat for the night. And then hopefully tomorrow after their few extra bits of furniture have arrived and they have been built, they will be able to unpack the majority of the rest of their stuff and move in officially that evening. That is, if Ryan and Clara get there any time soon so that they can get started.

Coincidentally, just at that moment, Yaz’s phone vibrates in her pocket and she digs it out, frowning at the text message on screen.

“Oh.”

“What is it, babe?” Jolie asks, squeezing her girlfriend’s arm where it is pressed against her body.

“Ryan. He’s on his way, but he said Clara texted him to say she’s not well so she can’t come this morning.”

Jolie hums as she takes in the information, but she can see that Yaz is off about something.

“You worryin’ about Clara?” She asks, and Yaz nods.

“She’s been really off lately, ever since we went camping. I know that something is up but she won’t tell me what it is,” Yaz says, sighing heavily. Jolie wraps an arm around her shoulders and pulls her in for a light hug before kissing her in her hairline.

“She’ll tell you what’s up when she’s ready to, babe. You can’t force her to,” Jolie reminds her, and Yaz nods.

“I know, I know. Sometimes I just think she feels that she can’t tell me.”

“Trust me, Yaz. She knows she can tell you anything. Maybe it’s something she just can’t tell you yet, yeah?”

Yaz nods, she knows what Jolie is alluding to, she herself has made similar guesses but then again they should not speculate until any information comes from Clara herself. 

“Come on, let’s get a shift on and get the dust sheets over the furniture before Ryan gets here,” Jolie decides, pulling on Yaz’s arm. It is not the best start to their moving in process, but Jolie is determined not to let that deter her, and is on a one-woman mission to make this as fun and relaxed as possible for both of them.

***

Just as they are finishing draping dust sheets over furniture as best they can, there is a knock at their door and Jolie opens it to reveal Ryan standing there, a stepladder tucked under one arm and a large, bright pink cool bag under the other, the kind you would take on a picnic. And he does not look particularly happy about that fact.

Jolie takes pity in him, grabbing the bag and looking inside.

“Ooh, snacks!” She enthuses, sitting down in the sheet-covered sofa and rifling through it.

“Yeah, Nan was worried we wouldn’t have enough nutrition to get us through today, so…” he explains, setting the stepladder against the wall.

“Grace is a wise woman,” Jolie concludes, pushing herself up from the sofa with a humph and moving towards the kitchen to put the food somewhere safe where it wouldn’t get completely covered by paint flecks.

After they put the food away, the three of them put on a playlist and set to work. They tackle the living room firs; Jolie sitting on one of the dining room chairs with a roller and painting as much as she can reach, Ryan using his height to his advantage and doing the space at the very top of the walls, and Yaz uses the step ladder to get the awkward bits around the coving at the top, the only one of the three of them able to safely stand on the ladder.

Once they have made their way along the wall in the main room they take a short break to munch on some of the homemade chocolate chip cookies Grace had sent along for them, before going through the exact same process in the bedroom. Although, this one is a little more tricky in the narrower space, even with the bed pushed right up against the opposite wall. Despite the fact that it had become significantly milder since the heatwave of their camping trip a few weeks prior, it is still warm and all three of them are sweating buckets by the time they finish the first coat on the bedroom wall.

“Break?” Yaz suggests, and the other two nod enthusiastically. They opt to head outside into the slightly cooler air, taking the picnic bag with them and sprawling out on the grass just in front of the building to eat. Yaz doesn’t miss Jolie’s poorly concealed wince when she gets down on the ground, more of a controlled fall than her sitting down properly. She had been using her crutches when they had gotten up this morning but she had abandoned them once they had arrived at the new flat and Yaz strongly suspects that she had wanted to get rid of the strong reminder that she is less physically capable for this process than she would like. Of course, abandoning the crutches completely makes that even worse for her, but Yaz does not start an argument and trusts that Jolie will tell her if things get too much. At least she hopes so.

While they sit and work their way through their late lunch, Yaz also notices that the other car in the driveway is gone, and so their new neighbour must not be home. That fills Yaz with a little relief: she was nervous about meeting their new neighbour to say the least, and so she is glad that they can put it off for at least a little longer. Just as they are finishing up their lunch, Yaz’s phone pings with a message and she squints at the screen to read it thanks to the glare of the sun.

“Sonya’s on her way, do you guys want to just chill out here for a bit until she gets here?” 

There is a hum of affirmation from both the others, so Yaz lies back on the grass, closing her eyes and Jolie follows. Her head comes to rest on Yaz’s stomach and she smiles to herself, her hands automatically moving down to untie Jolie’s hair from the hair tie and run her fingers through it. At the same time, she can feel Jolie starting to trace lazy patterns on the inside of her wrist with her fingertip. It is calming, a small moment of respite in the chaos that will be the next few weeks of their life. They need to take every moment of downtime they can get.

Yaz is not sure how long it has been when she feels a shadow looming over her, and she blinks her eyes open to see Sonya standing over her.

“Oi, sleepyheads! We’ve got work to do,” she calls, and next to her Ryan groans but sits up, blinking against the bright light and the sudden change of position. Jolie, however, does not stir so Yaz shakes her shoulder to try and rouse her.

“C’mon, baby. Sonya’s here, we’ve got unpacking to do,” she says, and Jolie blinks and rubs her eyes.

“M’awake, I’m awake,” she mumbles, and Yaz giggles.

“Were you asleep?” She giggles, pushing herself up all the way now that Jolie’s head is no longer on her stomach.

“I were contemplating the inside of my eyelids, Yaz,” she pouts. Yaz smiles affectionately at her antics, knowing that she had fallen asleep a little but she would never actually admit that.

“Yeah, sure,” she counters. Yaz pushes herself up off the ground, dusting her jeans before reaching out a hand for Jolie to pull herself up and they move towards the car. However, she notes that she is limping again and so she grabs her wrist to stop her a little way from the car, out of the earshot of Sonya and Ryan so they can have a little privacy.

“You okay?” She checks, squeezing her hands.

“Yeah, fine. Just tired, that’s all.” Jolie smiles to try and reassure her girlfriend, but Yaz sees straight through it.

“Jo, you’re limping. It’s okay to be struggling, you know. It’s a busy few days and you’ll be on your feet a lot,” she tries to reason, but Jolie frowns in distress.

“I wanna help though, Yaz.”

“I know, but Sonya, Ryan and I can get all the stuff inside. You can help with the actual unpacking, it might make it easier for you to remember where stuff goes if you’re the one telling people.”

Jolie tilts her head to one side as she contemplates Yaz’s suggestion, before looking at her girlfriend with a soft smile of resignation.

“I s’pose that’s fine,” she grumbles, not happy about the proceedings but knowing that it is the most logical way to get everything done.

“Love you,” Yaz reminds her as she walks towards the car to grab a few boxes to start ferrying them all inside.

“Love you too, Yaz,” Jolie echoes.

Neither of them miss the sounds of disgust coming from Sonya and Ryan.

* * *

Much later in the day, after they have unpacked as much into the house as they could and applied the second coat of paint to the walls, they are sitting in the Khan flat and watching the movie as a whole family. Well, Hakim, Najia, Sonya and Jolie are all watching, whereas, true to form, Yaz had fallen asleep not even thirty minutes in with her head on Jolie’s chest and legs slung over her lap.

Although, to be fair to Yaz, it is just past ten o’clock and neither of them have really stopped all day, barring their short break while they were waiting for Sonya to arrive. Jolie rests her chin on top of her head, her hand finding a home on Yaz’s back and scratching it while running her fingers through her head.

From the other side of the room, Najia watches the young couple with a small smile. Of course she is sad that her eldest daughter is moving out, although it is not the first time and she cannot help but be apprehensive. She can see just from their interactions now how much more in tune and comfortable they are with each other; the way that Yaz stirs a little in her sleep and Jolie’s immediate, almost mindless reaction of kissing the top of her head and rubbing slow circles into her shoulder with her thumb until she settles again. It makes Najia feel confident that Jolie won’t treat Yaz like Nathan had, and that Yaz will be safe and happy in this new home she is creating for herself. Of course, it will not come without its challenges, but she is sure that she and Jolie will be able to tackle them together, neither of them ever leaving the other behind.

Together, they will be strong.

* * *

“Jolene Elizabeth Smith, you cannot possibly be planning on buying that many packets of custard creams,” Yaz chides, raising her eyebrows at her girlfriend who is currently sporting an extremely sheepish expression.

“I’ve gotta have custard creams, Yaz!” She protests.

“I know, babe. But I’m just not sure we can afford that many packets, we haven’t really worked out our food budget yet,” Yaz reasons. Jolie pouts but reaches over the trolley in front of her and takes out two packets, depositing them back on the shelves.

“How many do you still have in there?”

“Four.”

Yaz sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. 

“I  _ could _ take it down to three,” Jolie grins, enjoying harmlessly winding Yaz up a little.

“Two and we get turkey dinosaurs,” Yaz bargains and Jolie’s face lights up. She immediately grabs half the packets left and dumps them on the shelves, a delighted grin on her face.

Rolling her eyes, Yaz starts to move further down the aisle and Jolie follows, leaning her forearms on the trolley.

“It’s like shopping with a small child, you know,” she teases, swiping a jar of honey from the shelf and depositing it carefully in the bottom of the trolley.

***

Yaz is taking far too long to decide which brand of granola to get, and Jolie is starting to get impatient, rocking the trolley back and forth slightly in her impatience. Eyeing up the stuff they already have in there, she notices that there are a lot of boxes and tins.

Huh.

Those would make a good tower.

Tongue poking out the corner of her mouth, she leans over into the trolley and starts to calculate the construction of her tower. The large, round tin of sweets they had bought as a housewarming gift to themselves would make a nice base, followed by the five tins of various things they had bought, arranged in a circle. Next come a couple of boxes of teabags, crackers, an ice-cream tub. She is just balancing the (measly) two packets of custard creams on top when…

“Jo, what are you doing?” Yaz asks, holding her box of granola and frowning in confusion.

Jolie jumps violently, jostling the trolley and sending her whole tower tumbling down with a loud  _ crash. _

“Yaz!”

“Sorry! What on Earth were you doing though?” Yaz repeats, dropping her box into the trolley and looking at her in confusion.

“Well, you were taking ages to decide on  _ one _ box of cereal so I had to occupy myself somehow, and building a tower was just too good to resist,” she grins, gesturing at the mess in the bottom of the trolley. Thankfully, it looks like nothing has broken, which is always a relief.

“Sorry I ruined your tower, babe. But hey, that was the last thing,” she explains, coming to stand beside her girlfriend who still has a bit of a forlorn expression on her face. She winds an arm around her waist and squeezes gently until Jolie leans into her with a sigh.

“Y’know I’m not  _ actually _ mad at you, right?” She checks, placing a kiss on Yaz’s cheek.

“Yeah, I know. And that’s a good thing, because I need you to help me build all the furniture that arrived earlier, there’s no way I know what I’m doing with that.”

* * *

“I’m so  _ tired,”  _ Jolie groans dramatically, flopping back onto their freshly made bed with new, star patterned sheets and covering her face with her hands. The others have finally left, leaving Yaz and Jolie on their own in their new flat for the first time. All of their new furniture has been built, the walls have mostly dried and everything that they can unpack, has been unpacked. Well, except from the stack of boxes in the armchair in the corner of their bedroom. 

“Me too, babe. Me too,” Yaz chuckles, chewing the skin around her thumb as she sits down next to Jolie.

“Do you want to start opening those?” She asks, as casually as she can, pointing to the boxes still to be opened.

Jolie sits up, frowning at the memories encased in cardboard.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to yet, but they’ll be sitting there staring at you until you do. So you might want to make a start on it.”

Jolie frowns at the boxes a bit longer, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her thighs. Eventually she just decides to bite the bullet.

“Can you pass me the one that I’ve looked at already?” She asks. Yaz nods with a smile, kissing her forehead before standing up and making her way to the pile of boxes. Jolie tries to get her heart rate to calm down while Yaz takes the lids off the boxes to search for the one that she had already briefly looked through at Ada and William’s house, before they had found more boxes and dropped them off prior to moving. They are just boxes, they are just things. They just so happen to be things that hold an awful lot of memories; memories that she has not confronted and processed for several years.

“Here you go,” Yaz announces, setting the correct box down on the bed and sitting back down beside her, winding an arm loosely around her waist in support.

Before she can really think about it, because it’s  _ just a box,  _ Jolie takes the lid off and looks inside. It is exactly the same as she left it, photograph and plastic trophy on top , the rest of the contents hidden underneath. She takes out the two items she has already seen, looking over them briefly before placing them carefully on the sheets.

“Do you want me to go, give you some privacy?” Yaz asks, but Jolie shakes her head quickly. Not only does she want, no need, the moral support, this is also an important part of her life that she knows she should share with Yaz, because Yaz will help and support her to deal with all of those emotions that looking through these boxes of memories will bring up.

“No problem, hummingbird. Right here if you need me.”

Jolie leans into Yaz for a moment before delving back into the box. It seems that a lot of things are less significant than she was expecting. Well, she’s not quite sure exactly what she was expecting, but it is almost a welcome relief when most of the things she finds are similar to the plastic coding club trophy she had already found; cheap childhood souvenirs, some of which she has to really think to remember how she even came about them in the first place.

She empties half of the box, there is seemingly no rhyme or reason to how they are organised, before she comes across the first properly sentimental item, and her breath hitches in her throat. It is a photo frame, hand painted and decorated with plastic stars in hearts in garish colours that she had made not long after she had moved in permanently with her grandma. In it is a photograph of Jolie on her eighth birthday, her first birthday after the adoption, sitting proudly on her grandma’s lap behind a cake. Both of them are grinning at the camera, and it jars Jolie to see both of them looking so young, so healthy, so full of hope.

“You okay?” Yaz checks, and Jolie nods, but it is unsure. She will be okay, but looking at photographs like this is painful. 

“I think I want to put this on the bookcase in the living room,” she decides, turning to look at Yaz.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“We can do that now, if you like,” Yaz suggests. Jolie nods in agreement, shuffling herself forward on the bed and getting herself up with a hand from Yaz.

Yaz follows behind her as they go into the living room, and watches Jolie as she surveys the bookshelf that still stands a little away from the wall thanks to the still-tacky paint for the perfect spot. Eventually she settles for placing it next to the snow globe they had bought on their camping trip.

“You okay?” Yaz asks as she winds her arms around Jolie’s waist from behind, allowing her to lean backwards into her.

“Yeah. We could get a nicer frame though, if you like.”

Yaz shakes her head. “Nah, I like that one. Has character.”

Jolie giggles, shaking her own head.

“If by ‘character’ you mean a kid was let loose with craft supplies and left unsupervised, then yeah, sure.”

“It’s a lovely picture frame, babe, really captures your personality.”

“Oi!” Jolie protests, turning around to face Yaz and poking her playfully, right where she knows she’s ticklish.

“Hey! For that, you’re the one calling the takeaway place and ordering the pizza.”

Jolie groans but picks her phone up off the arm of the sofa anyway, putting in the number for their favourite pizza place and raising the device to her ear. Not before sticking her tongue out childishly, of course.

* * *

After Jolie finishes her own food and rearranges a few things on their new bookshelf that just didn’t quite look right, and she would probably be messing with for weeks, she washes up the dishes and makes her way to the bathroom to start and get ready for bed. It is still early but she is exhausted from the last two and a bit days of moving, and she only has tomorrow to rest before she jumps headfirst into her new job. It’s a lot, and very overwhelming, but she is sure that she will manage.

Although, as she brushes her teeth, she starts to worry about Yaz and how she is coping with this. Jolie had been so focused on herself and getting herself through the process of moving that she had not been paying attention to Yaz, and then she had been unusually quiet all through dinner and excused herself early. Not like Yaz at all. She decides that she will ask her about it tomorrow, to make sure she is okay. And if she is not, make it okay again.

She does not turn on the main light in their bedroom, not wanting to wake up Yaz who is already tucked under the duvet on her side of the bed. It is strange settling for sleep in a new place, but Jolie flicks on her bedside lamp and leans her crutches against the wall to grab her pyjamas and start getting changed. She gets as far as tugging her pyjama top over her head when she hears a strange noise coming from Yaz. She sits down on the bed to start tugging her jeans off when she feels Yaz shift on the bed behind her and let out a small cry.

Is she having a nightmare?

Jolie dithers for a moment before getting up and using the bed for leverage as she makes her way around to Yaz. Looking down, she can see that her eyes are open but she seems to be staring into space.

So a panic attack.

Jolie dithers again, she has not dealt with a panic attack of Yaz’s on her own in a long time, and for a moment she forgets what she is supposed to be doing.

Okay, she probably shouldn’t be standing over Yaz, potentially intimidating her, so she flops herself down onto the floor entirely inelegantly and with a loud thump. It’s a good thing they do not have downstairs neighbours. She is not sure how she will get back up again, but she can figure that out later.

“Yaz. Hey, Yaz, it’s just me, it’s Jolie,” she says gently, putting her hand close to Yaz on the edge of the bed but not touching her, not yet.

Yaz’s eyes flick over to Jolie and she seems to relax just a tiny bit, the crease between her eyes becoming slightly shallower, but she’s still gasping for breath.

“Yaz, you’re safe in our bed in our new flat, I’m right here with you. I need you to match your breaths to mine, can you do that for me?” She says quietly, gently nudging Yaz’s hand with hers which she takes in a death grip, in an attempt to ground herself. Jolie feels that the circulation is already being cut off to her fingers but that does not matter at this moment.

“Okay, Yaz. We’re going to breathe together,” Jolie instructs, squeezing Yaz’s hands as best she can in time with her own breathing to try and help her as much as possible. She is at an awkward angle, sideways to the bed and reaching up, but she is trying her best to make it work.

Eventually Yaz manages to control her breathing enough for it not to be the only thing she is focusing on and she looks at Jolie properly. Her face crumples.

“You’re okay Yaz, you’re alright. Can I come and sit with you on the bed? I think that would help.”

Yaz nods quickly, and so Jolie uses the edge of the bed to hoist herself up from the floor. Wordlessly, Yaz reaches out a shaky hand to take Jolie’s elbow and helps her up so she can land on the bed and not the floor again.

Jolie shuffles over to the opposite side of Yaz and slides under the duvet before pulling her close, wrapping her arms around her and entangling their legs. She tucks the duvet in tightly to try and ground Yaz further before resting her chin on top of dark hair, rubbing her back gently.

There are a few moments of silence on then;

“You haven’t got any trousers on,” Yaz states softly through a hiccup, and Jolie frowns in confusion.

“Huh, so I haven’t,” she laughs, squeezing Yaz tighter momentarily.

She holds Yaz and rocks her gently until she stops crying so hard and her breaths don’t stutter, until they can be quiet together.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Stupid,” Yaz replies, fast, too fast.

“Hey, none of that now,” Jolie scolds without malice. “Whatever it was, it wasn’t stupid and you’re certainly not.”

Yaz sighs, her breath hot on Jolie’s skin. Jolie does not push her but allows her the space to feel comfortable to open up, no matter how much she just wants Yaz to tell her what is wrong right now.

“I’m scared,” Yaz admits eventually, her voice tiny. It reflects her admission, it is so rare for Yaz to admit that she is scared of something.

“Why’re you scared, baby,” Jolie whispers, squeezing her shoulders.

Yaz goes quiet again, fiddling with the drawstring on her jogging bottoms.

“You can tell me, Yaz. I’m not going to judge you one tiny bit.”

Yaz sighs heavily again, her breath stuttering as it leaves her body.

“Last time I moved in with someone properly, it all just went so so wrong,” she says, all in a rush and so quiet that Jolie is not sure she heard her correctly.

“What do you mean?” She asks, sitting up slightly in her confusion.

“When I moved in with Nathan, that’s when things started to go really really badly. And now I’m scared that the same thing is going to happen with you,” she says, her voice breaking and she sits up further and moves away from Jolie.

“Yaz, I’m not him. And we’ve been living together for months, why does it change now?” Jolie asks in genuine confusion, because she just does not understand why Yaz is getting so worked up now when they have been living together for close to four months. It just doesn’t add up.

“Do you not think I know that?!” Yaz cries, her arms flying into the air. “Do you not think I know that, of course I do, there is no reason why this won’t work, but my stupid, dumb brain won’t accept that you’re not going to hurt me or leave me or cheat on me because that’s what he did, Jo. And I don’t know how to make myself believe that you’re not him and that things won’t go the same way.”

She is crying again now, big heaving sobs that shake her whole body and Jolie longs to hold her close until it stops, but she knows that if she were to do that now it might be the tipping point for Yaz. It would be the thing that confirms to her brain that Jolie does not listen to her, which is entirely untrue, but she is vulnerable and so Jolie must be careful.

“Hey, Yaz. Can you look at me?” She asks gently, shuffling so that she is facing Yaz properly.

Yaz raises her head just a fraction so she is looking at Jolie, her knees rather than her face, but she will take it.

“Well done, babe. Now, first of all, your brain is not stupid, and it is not dumb. It’s an amazing, smart brain that is still recovering from trauma and that is absolutely not your fault, not one tiny bit. I don’t understand entirely where you’re coming from, because I’ve never been through that, but I need you to know that I’m here to support you every step of the way.”

Yaz nods into her knees, her shoulders still heaving but Jolie can hear her breaths calming a little, and so she continues to talk.

“Yaz, I can’t even imagine how hard this must be for you. If sometimes, you want to spend a night somewhere else, like with your parents because it’s getting too much and you need a break, that’s okay. It’s a big thing for you to adjust to and I don’t ever want you to feel like you  _ have _ to stay here with me.”

Yaz looks up, the frown line back between her eyebrows, deep and prominent.

“But I  _ want _ to live with you, Jolie. Don’t you get that? Is it not that you don’t want to live with me?”

Jolie bites back a sigh.

“Yaz, I know you want to live with me, and I want to live with you, so much. And that doesn’t change just because you’re not looking after me anymore. I want you for you, nothing else,” she reassures, putting her hands on the bed in front of her for Yaz to take if she wants to. She doesn’t, but she does look at them so she at least knows that they are there, that drawing that comforting contact from her partner is an option available to her.

“But I also recognise that sometimes you might need a break until you’re adjusted to this, and that is far more than okay. Not everybody works the same, this is a big change for both of us. So, please, tell me if you need to sleep somewhere else for the night, if you need to sit in a room on your own for a bit, if you need me to stay with you. We’re equal in this, Yaz. I love you and that means I’m going to support you in whatever it is you need to do. Can you understand that?” She asks, nudging Yaz’s hands with her own. Yaz claps them loosely, and Jolie gives them a brief squeeze so as to tell Yaz that she is here and that she is not going anywhere.

“I do understand, Jolie. I do. It’s just so exhausting to have to be fighting my brain constantly to accept that.”

Jolie sighs sympathetically, because she knows the feeling of fighting with yourself all too well.

“Well, you’re not fighting it on your own, because I’m here to help you. And Clara and Ryan, your family. You’ve got so many people in your corner, Yaz. You’re like a lioness, surrounded by her pride.”

Jolie is pleased when that pulls a small chuckle out of Yaz, who then wipes at her face with the back of her hand. Keeping hold of her hand with one of hers, she reaches over to Yaz’s bedside table and grabs a couple of tissues from the box, pressing one into her hand.

“I’m going to go and get you a glass of water, is that okay?”

Yaz nods, swallowing. “Can you talk to me?” She asks.

Jolie frowns at her in confusion for a moment, wondering what Yaz means by that until it clicks; she needs to know that Jolie is not leaving.

“Of course I can, babe,” she says, leaving a kiss on her forehead before shuffling off the bed and grabbing one of her crutches to make her way to the kitchen.

“Okay, Yaz. I’m in the kitchen, I’m trying to remember where we put the glasses … I’m grabbing a glass. Wait, nope, not that cupboard. Babe, which cupboard did we put the glasses in again?”

She hears Yaz giggle quietly before she answers, and she smiles to herself. 

“The tall cupboard, about halfway up.”

“Ahh, got you! Right, grabbing a glass, taking it to the sink, trying not to trip over my own crutch in the process —”

“Be careful, please.”

“Tryin’ my best, Yaz. Anyway, glass is being filled, turning the tap off, coming back to the bedroom … and here I am,” she finishes, settling down on the edge of the bed and handing the glass over to Yaz who has tucked herself back under the covers properly.

Yaz downs the glass in one go before she sags back against the headboard.

“Thank you,” she says with a small smile, rubbing her eyes.

“No problem, babe. Do you want to sleep now? I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”

Yaz nods and slides down and then Jolie climbs in next to her, flicking off her bedside lamp in the process .

“Think you can deal with being the little spoon tonight?” She asks, turning over to face Yaz.

“I s’pose so.”

Jolie kisses her forehead before gesturing for her to turn over. Entangling their legs, she rests her chin against Yaz’s shoulder and winds her arms securely around her waist, keeping them as close as possible to show Yaz that she’s  _ here _ and she’s not going anywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I can't believe I only have one more chapter and then the epilogue to go, utter madness! See you next Tuesday :)
> 
> A twitter thread of pics of their new flat when I built it in the sims 4! https://twitter.com/emmyphant_/status/1346427081526308864?s=20
> 
> Chapter title is a lyric from this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OTg1n95--KE
> 
> A playlist featuring all the songs from this fic can be found here https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0T2wY8WE7DwBZGH1Ui0agQ


	25. My Song and My Silence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahhh the penultimate chapter, aka the last proper chapter. Next week will be the epilogue, which I've already started to write and I've cried already writing it, so ... prepare yourselves. Anyway, enjoy this very fluffy chapter!

> **Jolie [09:48]:** just checking in, you still feeling good for your first lecture? :) x

Yaz sits in an uncomfortable lecture hall seat waiting for the first class of her final year to start and smiles at her phone as the screen lights up with the notification. She had barely even discussed with Jolie that she was feeling extra anxious about today, her first day back at university without any of her friends there for moral support since she had taken time off. But she is ever grateful that Jolie had recognised that anxiety bubbling beneath the surface, a skill which she had slowly been improving, and had thought to take the time out of her undoubtedly busy work day to check in on her girlfriend and offer her some comfort. 

> **Yaz [09:48]:** yeah, just sitting waiting for it to start. feeling a little bit panicky but remembering that nothing bad is going to happen x
> 
> **Jolie [09:49]:** You’re right, nothing bad is going to happen. You’re doing so well so far, and I'm so proud of you. Take some deep breaths. Remember, you’re a lioness :) x

Yaz smiles down at her phone, and she is just about to reply to Jolie when there’s a nervous cough and she looks up to see another student hovering beside her, looking unsure.

“Hi,” she says, putting a friendly smile on her face. “Are you okay?”

“Erm … yeah,” she stutters, her face reddening. “I was just wondering, do you mind if I sit with you? I’m new and I don’t really know anyone yet.”

“Oh, yeah. Of course. I’ve been where you are, I get it,” she reassures, and the other woman sits down one space over from her, starting to pull her books and pencil case out of her bag.

“Oh, you transferred too?” She asks, setting her water bottle down.

Yaz shakes her head, thumbing the edge of her phone case. “Not quite, I suspended my studies for a year and then came back. So I was with a whole different cohort, all my friends had graduated. My partner transferred here though, so I kind of know what it’s like” she explains.

“Oh, right. What’s your name, by the way?”

“Yasmin, Yaz for short. You?”

“Quinn,” she replies, taking a pen out of her case and flipping her notepad to a blank page.

“Nice to meet you Quinn.”

Before the conversation can go any further or Yaz can reply to Jolie’s message, the lecturer calls for the start of the class and Yaz turns to the front to pay attention. But, by the time she leaves the lecture she has swapped contact information with Quinn and she does not feel as anxious as she thought she would.

* * *

Yaz stamps her feet against the stone pavement as she waits for Jolie to pull up, trying to work some warmth into her limbs. Despite it only still being late September there is a definite chill in the air and Jolie is taking a little bit longer than Yaz would like to turn up. Normally she wouldn't worry but this is the first drive Jolie has made on her own since her accident, and she had been more than a bit nervous. Of course they had made plenty of short drives together to make sure Jolie is fit to drive again, which they had very much discovered depended on the day. In fact, they seem to be very much in a good day-bad day situation, and part of Yaz thinks that that is as good as they will ever get in terms of Jolie’s knee. At this point, it is not likely to heal further.

Their car pulls up slowly in front of Yaz, pulling her out of her train of consciousness. Jolie has an intense look of concentration on her face, her tongue poking out the corner of her mouth adorably. 

Yaz opens the passenger side door and climbs in, leaning over to greet her girlfriend with a soft kiss.

"Hey, good day?" She asks, leaning back in her seat and running her fingers over her seat belt as Yaz adjusts her backpack at her feet and buckles herself in.

"Long," Yaz replies, running her hands over her face. She is glad that it is just Clara they are eating dinner with, and so she does not have to worry about her slightly bedraggled appearance. 

"Doesn't answer the question, babe," Jolie grins, and Yaz rolls her eyes.

"Bearable. I'm just glad it's the weekend," she reassures and Jolie relaxes.

"How was your day?" Yaz asks in return.

"Good! I didn't get to go out on site like we had planned but I did get to work alongside one of the more senior members of staff to work out some specifications for a new solar project!" she enthuses, and Yaz grins back at her. She might not always know what she is on about, but she enjoys hearing her partner talk about her passions and her job.

"Are you still okay to drive to Clara's?" she checks, and Jolie nods.

"Yeah, having a good day."

Yaz reaches over and squeezes her leg fleetingly before they set off for the annoying drive around the outskirts of the city to reach Clara’s flat. That had been one disadvantage of moving to the start of the suburbs: it takes so much longer to get everywhere. But the cheaper rent and the quieter surroundings are very much worth it.

As they drive, Yaz goes quiet in her thoughts and Jolie picks up on it.

"Okay, babe?" she asks when they are stopped at yet another set of traffic lights.

"Just thinking," Yaz hums, giving her a half smile.

"Wanna share?"

Yaz shrugs, waiting until they are moving again to start talking. "Dunno, just thinking about how weird this all feels. It’s not a bad thing, obviously, but it's kinda weird how domestic this situation is; you've been to work and come to pick me up and now we're going to our friend's house for dinner. I feel old. Settled," she smiles, and Jolie giggles softly.

"I get what you mean," she replies, her attention on both the road ahead and Yaz next to her. "It feels very domestic and grown-up, doesn't it?"

"Yeah," Yaz nods in agreement. But it's not a bad thing, I love it. Just a bit weird to think about sometimes, that's all," she admits.

"I know. It's weird for me too. But promise to tell me if things are too much and you need a step back."

"I will, I promise," Yaz reassures. "Same goes for you too."

* * *

“We’re here!” Yaz calls as they let themselves into Clara’s flat as usual, kicking their shoes off at the door and walking into the living space.

“Kitchen!” The voice comes back, and the young couple make their way to the right room, stopping in the doorway.

“Hey,” she smiles, looking up from where she is stirring something in her slow cooker. “Ryan said he’s running late, something about a tricky car and an awkward customer.”

Yaz hums in agreement, but Jolie is already moving over to where Clara is still standing beside her slow cooker, her urge to see what they will be having to eat too strong to resist.

“Ooh, is that chilli?” she enthuses, eyes lighting up at the idea of one of her favourite things for dinner.

“Yup, even blended the mince a bit more for you, I know you don’t like it when it’s all chunky,” she says, smiling at the way Jolie grins in excitement.

“Really?”

“Yeah! It’s no big deal, really,” she reassures, but Jolie wraps her arms around her in a spontaneous hug anyway, and Clara squeaks in surprise. Yaz smiles at the way their friendship has developed so easily.

“Oh, wait. No crutches today I see,” Clara observes when Jolie steps back. The blonde grins widely, proud of herself.

“Yeah!  _ And  _ I drove us here.”

“No way!”

“Yeah! Took me long enough to be able to though,” she says, a hint of self-doubt and regret in her voice. But, like Yaz, Clara is having none of it.

“Hey, none of that. You got there when the time was right and I’m just as proud of you as Yaz is.”

Jolie blushes heavily and stares down at her feet, before Clara takes pity on her and hugs her again.

“Yep, we’re both very proud of you, babe. You’ve come a long way,” Yaz reiterates, stepping over to hug Jolie from the other side so she is completely encircled in support. 

Unfortunately, their quiet moment is interrupted by Ryan crashing loudly through the door and announcing his arrival.

“Kitchen!” The three of them holler, and moments later Ryan appears in the doorway brandishing a bottle of wine to go with the dinner, but he is still wearing his slightly mucky work clothes.

“Aww, I’m missing out on a fam hug?” he complains, stepping towards them.

“Ryan Sinclair, you come anywhere near us with those oily clothes and you’re not getting any food,” Clara warns, and Ryan steps back with his hands in the air.

“Okay, okay! I brought spare clothes with me, not to worry. Can I use the bathroom to get changed?” He asks, and Clara nods.

“Always, but be quick, dinner’s almost ready.”

While they wait for Ryan to get changed, Yaz sets the table while Jolie helps Clara dish out the portions of rice and chilli until there are four steaming bowls ready to be eaten. Jolie also fills up two glasses of water for her and Yaz, knowing that Clara and Ryan would be likely to have a glass of the wine that Ryan had brought with him. 

Soon enough they are all sitting down around the table, Ryan in clean clothes and the four of them excited to tuck into the food followed by an evening of games and friendship and bonding.

“Wine?” Ryan asks, pouring a glass for himself and then offering the bottle to Clara, but strangely she shakes her head.

“I’m good, thanks.”

Ryan and Jolie seem to accept that fact without argument and continue on tucking into their food without suspicion, but Yaz frowns at Clara across the table quizzically.

“You okay, Clara? You always have a glass of wine when we all get together for dinner,” she states, almost accuses, and Clara blushes deeply.

“I know. Just avoiding alcohol for a bit,” she says, trying to remain nonchalant, but Yaz sees straight through the act.

“Ahh no, you’re not getting away with it that easily. You can tell us, you know,” she prompts, reaching over to squeeze Clara’s hand in reassurance, because she is almost entirely sure what her best friend is about to tell them all. Unsurprisingly, Ryan and Jolie remain fairly oblivious.

“Well, I won’t be able to have alcohol for a while. Or caffeine, or seafood, among other things.”

Yaz grins widely, because that has confirmed her suspicions. Ryan and Jolie have both stopped eating but are yet to cotton on to Clara’s news.

“Wait, why can’t you have those things?” Jolie asks, entirely oblivious still.

“Because in approximately five and a little bit months, there’ll be a mini Oswald around here,” she says, tears brimming in her eyes already. Yaz is not surprised to find that her reaction mirrors her best friend’s emotions, because her oldest and greatest friend is going to have a  _ baby. _

“Oh my god, you’re pregnant!” Jolie exclaims, finally catching on to the conversation as her face lights up in excitement.

“Yeah, I am. I’m pregnant,” Clara says, the dam on her emotions finally breaking as she says it out loud and immediately bursts into tears. Standing up and rounding the table to pull Clara into a tight hug, Yaz rocks her side to side while she cries; whether they are entirely happy tears, she does not know, the absence of Danny heavy in the room. But she has not mentioned it and so she will let Clara reveal that part of the puzzle herself, in her own time. No matter how curious she is.

"Incoming," Jolie warns as she and Ryan stand up too, joining in on the hug until Clara is surrounded by her three closest friends in a bubble of security.

"Thanks, guys," she says eventually, gratefully accepting the tissue that Yaz presses into her hands.

"I wasn't sure how well you were all going to take it," she admits, and the other three regard her in shock.

“What do you mean?” Ryan asks, crouching down next to Clara’s chair rather than standing up straight.

“Well, obviously this wasn’t planned, Danny won’t be here for a lot of it. And we’re all still young, I’ll be slowing us down forever now,” she says, hiccuping through tears.

“Hey, none of that,” Yaz scolds gently, capturing Clara’s hands again and squeezing gently. “Planned or not, you’re having a baby, and that’s amazing, Clara. And we’re all here to support you, no matter what. Before the baby comes, and after,” she says firmly, and the other two hum and nod in agreement.

“Yeah, whatever you need, we’re right here for you,” Ryan reiterates, and Clara smiles a watery smile.

“Thanks. I love you all a lot, you know.”

“We love you too,” Jolie adds, before tilting her head to one side in question.

“Wait, when are you due? If you don’t mind me asking,” she adds, just for good measure.

“No, I don’t mind at all. But 27th February is my due date,” she explains, and Jolie smiles.

“Hey, shame it’s not a leap year, then you could have a leap day baby!” She pouts, and Clara laughs.

“That’s seriously what you’re thinking about?”

“Well, yeah! Imagine how cool a leap day baby would have been!” She insists, and everyone laughs further.

“Well, shame I got pregnant in the wrong year then, isn’t it.”

Jolie laughs and stands up properly, not able to maintain her slightly crouched position for any longer and taking up occupance of Ryan’s now empty chair.

“Right,” Clara decides, blowing her nose and pushing herself to stand from the table. “Enough emotions. Let’s play some monopoly, and I’m going to thrash you all.”

“Hah, fat chance,” Jolie challenges, and Clara raises her eyebrows.

“Fighting talk, I see.”

“Alright, alright! Let’s just go and sit down and play this game,” Yaz interrupts, grabbing Jolie’s shoulders and steering her towards the sofa before their playful jibes can escalate any further. Yaz can tell that Clara is a little on-edge, and she suspects that that is because of the lack of a role Danny will have in this baby’s life, both before and after birth. She knows that she needs to talk to Clara about it, to make sure that her best friend is as okay as she can be, but that is a conversation for them to have in private at another time.

While Clara goes to get herself a glass of water, Ryan, Yaz and Jolie retrieve and set up the game. Jolie immediately claims the role of banker, but Yaz knows that it will end up being more of a joint effort between the two of them, as there is little chance of Jolie being able to successfully concentrate on both her own game and everyone else’s at the same time.

"Wait a second," Ryan says, holding his hands up. He is still struggling to process Clara’s news a bit, and Yaz giggles.

"Yeah…" Clara replies warily, stopping halfway to the sofa with a glass of water in her hand.

"Please don't take this the wrong way, but you don't  _ look _ almost four months pregnant."

Beside her, Jolie snorts loudly in amusement at Ryan’s trademark tactlessness, and Yaz has to try hard not to have a similar reaction.

Clara raises her eyebrows at him, a small smirk appearing on her face. "Please explain what you mean by that, and tread carefully, Sinclair." 

Unfortunately for Ryan, he falls right into the trap.

"Well I just thought you'd be showing a bit more." Sighing, Clara sets her glass down on the coffee table and turns sideways, smoothing down the fabric of her loose dress over her stomach. Suddenly her bump is a lot more obvious.

"It's called dressing strategically," she deadpans.

"Oh! You are big!" Ryan exclaims, and Yaz groans, knowing exactly where this conversation is about to go.

"You're treading on dangerous ground here, mate," Clara taunts, and Yaz giggles in anticipation.

"Well, no. I just meant you look a lot more pregnant like that," he tries, digging himself further into the hole he has created for himself.

"Please, just stop," Jolie groans, covering her face with her hands, seriously suffering with second hand embarrassment.

“Yeah, let’s just get on with the game.”

* * *

Later on, after they have finished the game and Jolie unsurprisingly crushed everyone as usual, Yaz nods for Clara to follow her back to her bedroom so they can talk in private. Clara frowns in confusion but follows Yaz anyway, trusting her.

“What’s up?” She asks, perching nervously at the edge of her bed beside Yaz.

“It’s nothing bad, but I wanted to check in on how you’re doing without Danny around and a baby on the way. I know it must be hard, and I want you to know that we’re all here to support you, no matter what happens there.”

Clara nods, shuffling back further on her bed and sitting with her legs crossed. Like this, it is obvious to Yaz now that she is pregnant and she finds herself wondering how she had not spotted the bump earlier, despite her having suspicions about the pregnancy since they went camping two months ago. But then again, she supposes that Clara had been hiding it until she was ready to tell her friends, some of the most important people in her life. Or until she could no longer hide it.

“He’s not going to be deployed anywhere for at least a year, which would have happened anyway. He’ll be given a week of leave before my due date, and then a month after the baby is born before he has to go back. But that’s what’ll happen if they decide to come out on time,” she explains, and Yaz nods.

“Do you have a backup plan?” Yaz asks, but Clara shakes her head.

“No. Danny’s very … I don’t know, he seems much more reluctant to have this baby than me. So he’s not really made one, and there’s only so far I can try and convince him to do that,” she says, sniffing hard. Yaz moves closer and wraps an arm around her shoulder, squeezing gently.

“My dad is going to come down from Blackpool though, stay with me for a bit so I’ve got even more backup apart from Danny,” she tries to reason, but Yaz can hear the pain in her voice at the fact that her boyfriend and her partner in this new step in her life is not as invested or present as she is, and that she will have to do the majority of this without him.

“Clara, listen to me. I know this is far from ideal, but you have so many people ready to support you and help you out. Me and Jolie and Ryan, we can be there for you, whatever you need. Random cravings at inopportune times? We’ve got you. Morning sickness? We got you. Mood swings? We got you. My point is, Clara, we’ve  _ always _ got you, like you’ve always got us. Please don’t ever think that you can’t ask something of any of us, because you’re our best friend and we want to be there to support you through this,” Yaz reiterates, gripping Clara’s shoulders tightly to really emphasise her point. 

Not too surprisingly, Clara bursts into tears for the second time that evening and Yaz pulls her close once again to offer her that comfort and support she has just made clear is always available to her, no matter the circumstance. 

“Thank you, really,” she sniffs, rubbing at her eyes.

“It’s nothing. That’s what best friends are for,” she reassures again, rubbing Clara’s back.

“Actually, there is something…”

“Yeah?”

“If … if Danny isn’t able to make it to the birth, would you be there for me? Like, in the delivery room?” Clara asks tentatively. Yaz barely has to take a moment to think before the answer naturally falls out of her mouth.

“Of course I will. I’m honoured that you would ask me to do that for you, but if that’s the case, I will absolutely be there.”

* * *

It is a few days later that Jolie asks the question that has been simmering between them ever since Clara’s announcement. But, of course, she asks it completely out of the blue.

“Yaz, do you want kids?” She asks, head popping up over the top of the desk and interrupting her flow of concentration with the pile of readings she had been working her way through.

“What?” Yaz baulks, so immersed in what she was doing that it takes a second for the question to catch on. Jolie’s eyes widen in panic, realising that she may have overstepped a line, and she tries to backtrack away from the  _ true _ meaning of the question. 

“Just in general. In general, I mean. In general, do you want kids.”

“You’re saying ‘in general’ too much, Jo,” Yaz smiles, tapping her pen against the corner of the desk. She smirks slightly at how quickly the tables have flipped from Yaz being the one caught off guard to Jolie now being flustered.

“Sorry.”

“It’s fine. But, yeah I think I might like that someday,” she concludes, tilting her head to the side and leaning back in her chair. There is something so appealing about raising someone as her own and the gratification of being a parent that draws her towards the idea. Of course, it would be much better with someone there to share that experience with, preferably Jolie. In fact it is strongly preferable, to the point that she would not want to consider anyone else filling that role, but that is not something she is ready to admit just yet and so she does not say it.

“What about you?” She asks, regarding Jolie carefully. “Do you want kids?”

Jolie tilts her head to one side too, scrunching her nose up and making the frown line in between her eyebrows deepen in thought. “I think so. I’ve not really been around many little kids to properly know, though.”

“You do realise Clara will be using us for free babysitting services. A  _ lot,”  _ Yaz laughs.

“True. I’d get some practice there then. But I’m just not sure I’m entirely on board with the idea of  _ birthing  _ a child. I don’t know, it just seems like a lot to cope with. Is that bad of me to say?”

Yaz shakes her head, sitting up and raising an arm to catch a hand that Jolie has draped over the top of the desk. “Not at all, that’s not for everyone. But there are other ways, like adoption and surrogacy. You don’t have to carry the child yourself for you to be their parent,” Yaz explains, drawing a small smile out of Jolie as she visibly relaxes.

“Yeah, yeah. That makes sense. I just forget that sometimes. I think I might want kids. Someday though, not sure I’m ready for that yet,” she concludes before straightening back up and pushing her hair out of her face.

“I’m going to go and make a cuppa, do you want one?” She asks, already making her way towards the kitchen.

“Sure, thanks,” Yaz says, watching her go for a second before leaning back in her desk chair with a smile. Every time she has another one of those all important conversations with Jolie, she realises more and more how little she would mind if she were to spend the rest of her life with the other woman. In fact, she would likely complain extensively if that were not the case. But, with each conversation, that realisation hits her less like a ton of breaks, and more as a confirmation that she is making the right choices and finally has that opportunity to be so completely happy.

****

That evening, she is sitting on the sofa curled around Jolie while she sketches and Jolie reads a book, some quiet music on in the background and just the fairy lights and table lamps illuminating the room. Her head is resting on Jolie’s chest and tucked under her chin, and every time she turns the page of her book, she kisses the top of Yaz’s head in affection. It makes Yaz’s heart flutter with warmth and love and affection each time she does it, and it amazes her how such a simple act can elicit such powerful feelings. But, she supposes, that is what happens when you are so deeply in love with someone, everything they do makes you love them just that little bit more. Yaz could not let go if she tried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What do you think?
> 
> See you next week for the epilogue, it'll be a long one :)
> 
> Chapter title source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0axomWGCX6g
> 
> A playlist featuring all the songs from this fic can be found here https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0T2wY8WE7DwBZGH1Ui0agQ


	26. Someone Out There Loves You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Together, they are warm, and together, they are strong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> .......I can't believe the epilogue is finally here. I'll wait until the end notes to get sappy but...enjoy!

_8 months later_

“Yaz, are you nearly done in there?” Jolie yells in the direction of the bathroom from where she is sitting on the floor in front of the mirror, her blazer lying abandoned on the bed behind her along with her bag, ready to go. Yaz had been in there forever and now she is getting impatient, worrying that they would not have enough time in order for her to finish getting ready before they have to leave. And it is not like it is an event to which they can slip in unnoticed if they were late. No, as the people about to be named baby Isaac’s godparents, or whatever the non religious equivalent is, they will be front and centre of the majority of the event.

Just as Jolie is about to call for Yaz again, she hears their bathroom door open and Yaz takes the single step across the narrow hallway and pokes her head around the bedroom door, grinning broadly. She looks as though she has all the time in the world as she regards Jolie sitting on the floor, looking slightly miffed. Jolie takes a moment to admire Yaz in her long, grey and white zig-zag striped skirt and slightly cropped white, lace-detailed t-shirt. There is a small part of her midsection on show, the tops of her scars showing above the waistband of her skirt. Originally when she had tried on the outfit, Yaz had felt incredibly self-conscious about it but Jolie had reassured her that she looked incredible, and now, standing in the doorway, she is radiating confidence and beauty. In comparison, Jolie’s navy jumpsuit and cream coloured blazer are drab and boring.

“Ahh, finally. Her highness emerges!” Jolie quips sarcastically, earning an eye roll from her girlfriend as her only response. Looking down, Yaz eyes the mess around Jolie and raises her eyebrows.

“Why didn’t you do that in the bathroom?” She asks, adjusting her long skirt on her hips.

“Because you were taking forever and I thought that if I waited we wouldn't be able to leave on time,” she explains, glancing at her watch before raising her wrist to show Yaz the time. “See. Only five minutes until we need to go,” she gloats, and Yaz gives in, knowing that Jolie is right.

“Okay, okay. Well let’s get a wiggle on then. If we’re late Clara would never let us live it down,” Yaz decides, making her way towards the door but stops in her tracks when she realises that Jolie is still sitting on the floor.

“Are you stuck?”

“Maybe…” Jolie grins sheepishly. “Give me a pull up?”

“Always,” Yaz says, taking Jolie’s hands in a firm grip to help pull her to her feet in one smooth, practiced movement, even pressing a fleeting kiss to the corner of Jolie’s lips once she is upright.

“Come on then. Let’s go and get ourselves a god son.”

“You know he’s not technically our god son if the ceremony isn’t religious?” Jolie says, grabbing her crutches to put in the boot of the car as a backup just in case she needs them.

“It’s the concept though, love.”

“True.”

“Well, I say it again, let’s go and get ourselves a god son.”

“Not a god son.”

“Ugh, fine! Just move your butt.”

* * *

“Oh, good, you’re here,” Clara says as soon as Yaz and Jolie step through the doors of the room Clara had hired for the naming ceremony. The room is quite large, with floor to ceiling glass windows at one end and a polished wooden floor. There are several circular tables set up around the space as well as a long buffet table along the wall opposite the main doors, and an empty space for what is presumably a dance floor in the middle. Jolie certainly was not expecting there to be a dance floor at a naming ceremony, but she will certainly be persuading Yaz to dance with her later, if that is what it is.

“Hello to you too,” Yaz smiles, grabbing Clara’s arm before she can rush off again.

“Slow down, Clara. You’ll exhaust yourself,” she instructs gently, and Clara stops in her tracks.

“Right yes, slow down,” she says, sagging slightly, and Yaz guides her over to a chair when she seems to forget how exactly to slow down.

“Where’s Isaac?” Jolie asks, looking around for any sign of him but spotting none. 

“In one of the little empty offices down the corridor with my dad. He was sound asleep and I don’t want to wake him up with all the chaos,” she explains, and Yaz nods.

“Okay, what can we do to help before the others get here?” She asks sensibly, and Clara swallows, glancing around the room.

“Yaz, do you mind helping Danny put the streamers up? And Jolie, if you could help me get the snack table laid out?” Clara asks tentatively, but Yaz and Jolie agree easily. Jolie watches as Yaz makes her way over to help Danny, grateful that she hadn’t been assigned that role. In reality, she is surprised to see Danny here, despite the fact that she knows he is able to come home over the weekend whenever he wants. He rarely does, and rarely with a reasonable excuse, so seeing him here at his son’s naming ceremony, is at least partially shocking to her. In Isaac’s three months of life so far, she and Yaz have spent more time with him than his own father has.

Shaking the thoughts from her head, she gets up and follows Clara over to the long table set up on one side of the room, tupperware containers full of food stacked on it as well as several display stands, bowls and plates.

“Woah, did you make all of this?” Jolie asks, noting that it all seems to be homemade.

“Yep.”

“You’re insane,” she concludes, following Clara’s lead to start setting up the table; crisps into bowls, tiny triangular sandwiches onto plates, little cakes onto the cake stand. They have just finished setting up the table when Ryan and Sonya arrive, hand in hand, and Jolie snickers as she glances over to take in Yaz’s expression in reaction to their entrance. Despite the fact that the pair had started dating almost five months ago, Yaz is still to get used to it. Jolie, on the other hand, thinks it’s quite sweet and that they’re well suited for each other. In her opinion, Yaz should be pleased that her sister is dating someone so trustworthy. But, then again, Jolie does not have any siblings of her own and so does not know the strangeness of having your sister date your best friend.

She goes over to greet them, fighting off Ryan when he tries to pull her into a headlock and ruffle her, for once, carefully styled hair before giving Sonya a friendly hug. Soon after that the remainder of the guests arrive and Jolie recognises most of them, some she doesn’t. Among the strangers though she can deduce some as Clara’s family members thanks to the way they greet her and before long, her dad appears with a now-awake Isaac. Jolie and Yaz are summoned to the front of the room alongside Clara and Danny.

Clara claps to get everyone’s attention, and the room settles down, turning to face her.

“Hi, everyone. I just want to thank you all for coming here today to be a part of welcoming our son into this world. He has been here for three months but today we are officially welcoming him into this family, and we are also appointing two very special people as Isaac’s honorary aunts. Yaz has been my best friend since we were four, and since the moment that she and Jolie started dating, Jolie has become one of my best friends too. I believe they want to say something too…” she trails off, looking over to where Yaz and Jolie are sitting to one side. They nod, standing up and making their way to the centre of the room. Clara carefully hands Isaac over to Yaz, who cradles him in her arms and then steps forward slightly alongside Jolie to address the room. She takes a deep breath before she starts to speak.

“When Clara and I were younger, we always used to talk about that when we were big and grown up and we had our own families, we would always look after each other and we would still be friends forever. I think if you had told either Clara or I ten years ago that this is what we would be doing today, we would have laughed at you. But, this is where we are, and so Jolie and I would like to make a promise to you, Clara. And to Isaac.”

Jolie takes over the speech, her expression shy but her voice clear.

“Clara, I may not have known you nearly as long as you’ve known Yaz, but I can confidently say that you’re one of my best friends; you’ve been there for me like you have for Yaz through thick and thin, and you’re an incredible person. When you told us that you were going to have a baby, I don’t think I quite believed you at first. But Yaz and I still stand by what we told you that day; we are here for you, no matter what. No matter what happens in our future, or yours, we will be there for Isaac. He’ll always have two honorary aunties right here to talk to, to defend him, to love him and to cherish him.”

Jolie looks at Yaz, who gives Clara a brief hug before turning back to look at the small crowd in front of them. “So, today we want to make a promise to both of you. We promise to always be there for Isaac, but we promise to always be there for you, whenever you need us. You will always have friends in us Clara, no, scratch that, sisters. We are incredibly privileged to be appointed Isaac’s honorary aunts, and I don’t think there is any other way for us to express that gratitude other than promising to be there for you both, no matter what.”

Seeing that the emotion of the day has gotten to Clara, Jolie steps over to draw her into a firm hug. “We meant every word of that. Just want to make sure you know that,” she says, quietly so that only Clara can hear her, a private moment between the two of them. When Jolie pulls away, she allows Yaz to pass Isaac back to his mother and draw her into a sideways hug. Wiping her eyes, Clara steps forward to address the room once again.

“Again, thank you all for coming here today to welcome Isaac into the world, and to welcome Jolie and Yaz as his honorary aunts. They are incredible people, and I have no doubt that they are the people for the job.”

The room breaks out into a quiet applause as the group move away from the focused space at the front and back to their tables; Clara and Danny with their respective parents, and Yaz and Jolie sit with the Khans and Ryan.

“How does it feel, essentially having a nephew?” Najia asks as soon as they sit down, and, despite feeling the need to roll her eyes at her mother’s incessant questioning, she grabs Jolie’s hand underneath the table and squeezes it, grinning at her.

“It feels weird, grown up. But good, makes us think about stuff, I think,” Yaz concludes, and Najia smiles knowingly.

“Well, I agree with Clara. I couldn’t think of two better people to fill that role for her,” Najia replies, smiling at the young couple across the table.

Thirty minutes later, Jolie has once again regained the job of holding Isaac and she is sitting with him laid across her lap, head supported by her arm as she talks to him. Even though her chair is angled slightly away from Yaz so she can see people, particularly Ryan and Graham, making fools of themselves on the makeshift dance floor, Yaz can still see the way that Isaac looks up at her with wide and trusting eyes while Jolie looks back down at him with nothing but love.

“You really love her, don’t you?” Najia’s voice comes from behind Yaz, making her jump slightly. She turns around, sighing at her mother’s knowing smile. But of course, she cannot deny the statement, because she knows that it to be wholly true.

“Yeah, I do,” she confirms softly, her gaze drifting back to her partner.

“Mum.”

“Yeah?”

“I want that, I want that with Jolie, mum. And she does too,” Yaz admits, watching her mother’s face carefully for her reaction, but there is no judgement or doubt there, only admiration.

“Then I’m happy for you, sweetheart. You love her and she loves you, and if you want that together, then why not. There’s nothing stopping either of you from having that life together.”

Yaz sighs happily, because her mother is right; there is nothing stopping them.

* * *

“I want that someday. With you,” Jolie confesses as they settle into bed that evening, tired but happy.

“Yeah?” Yaz asks softly, eyebrows raising slightly but not much; this conversation has been coming for a while.

“Yeah. I never thought I would, so young, but I really want all that. House, marriage, kids. Pets. A family. I really really want that, and quite preferably with you,” she says, all in one big breath, sitting up in her urgency.

“Jolene Elizabeth Smith, are you informally proposing to me?” Yaz grins, shifting to rest her head on Jolie’s legs, her partner’s hands automatically moving to start running through her hair.

“I might be,” she smiles shyly, suddenly unsure in front of Yaz and laying forth in front of her all her wishes and desires. It is intimidating.

“Well in that case,” Yaz starts, reaching up and curling her hand around the back of Jolie’s neck to pull her down for a kiss. “Yeah, I’d like that too.”

“Yasmin Khan, did you just informally agree to my informal marriage proposal?”

“I might have done,” Yaz blushes, pulling her partner in for another kiss. When Jolie doesn’t protest, she sits up properly and starts to dot kisses down her jaw, her neck, her collarbone.

“You know this isn’t the way that two women have a baby,” Jolie teases with a gasp as Yaz reaches a particularly sensitive spot at the same time as she slides her hands under Jolie’s pyjama top and over her back.

“Well, no. But it’s fun regardless,” Yaz says, suggestively wiggling her eyebrows.

“That’s very true,” Jolie grins before retaliating and launching a counter attack on Yaz, showing her just how much she loves her and wants to spend the rest of her life with her. Together, forever.

* * *

The next weekend, Yaz is suspicious when Jolie insists they pay a visit to the dog shelter where she used to work, insistent that they had called to say she’d left some of her things there and she could come and pick them up, but the sparkle in her eyes and the proximity to their birthdays suggested that it’s a not so elaborate lie. Although, knowing her girlfriend, she would have managed to lose something in such an obscure location that her former workplace had called her to inform her of such a fact, almost a year after she left the job. 

Yaz pulls up to the carpark outside the dog shelter, Jolie practically vibrating with excitement in the passenger seat next to her. _Yeah, she’s definitely up to something,_ Yaz muses. Her partner isn’t exactly the most subtle of people. A mischievous smirk flitting across her face, she decides to see just how far she can manage to push Jolie in her fib. 

“Hey, I’ll just wait in the car while you nip in and grab your stuff,” she smiles innocently, giggling internally at the momentary look of panic that flits across her face. 

“Oh, erm… you should come in. Say hi to everyone?” she falters, her face scrunching up adorably.

“Ugh, but it’s drizzling and this car is comfy and warm.”

“Nope, you’re coming with me,” Jolie replies with determination, climbing out of the passenger side and striding round to Yaz’s door, opening it with a comical bow and a “m’lady”. 

Yaz laughs lightly at her girlfriend’s antics, accepting the outstretched hand nonetheless. “You’re ridiculous, you know that? A right donut.”

“A donut?”

“Yes, a donut. Wouldn’t want any other kinda donut though,” she teases, planting a gentle kiss on Jolie’s jaw as they walk towards the building hand in hand. The comment causes Jolie to blush furiously. Even after being together for just over a year and a half, Yaz’s compliments can still turn her other half into a quivering lump of jelly.

“Hmm, love you too,” the blonde grumbles playfully, holding open the door for Yaz to step inside first.

Ten minutes later, Yaz stares in disbelief as several puppies come barrelling through the door at the same time as Jolie, all of them immediately surrounding her. She sinks to the floor without hesitation, trying to give each little bundle of fluff as much attention as she can manage. 

“Erm, babe, where did all these puppies come from?”

Jolie grins excitedly, joining her girlfriend on the floor and immediately succumbing to the onslaught of puppy excitement. “Well, you see Yasmin, when a mummy dog and a daddy dog love each other very mu—“

“Not _that_ you dumbo! I mean, more specifically, why am I suddenly surrounded by —“ Yaz pauses, desperately trying to count the wriggling bundles of fur, “— seven, no, eight, very cute and very hyper tiny dogs?”

Her girlfriend grins back at her, barely able to contain her excitement. “Because we’re going to choose one!”

“Wait — Do you mean … do you mean we’re getting a dog?!” She asks as a rush of adrenaline courses through her. She had seen this coming, of course, they had been talking about it for weeks, but it is still a shock all the same, and she cannot help the grin that spreads across her face. It is one step closer to building their perfect life together.

“Surprise!” Jolie cries, scooping up one of the puppies and holding it beside her face as she grins. “We’ve been talking about it for ages, so happy joint birthday-slash-graduation present I guess!”

“Oh my god, you’re so sneaky, and I love you,” Yaz beams back, leaning over to plant a kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek, but distracted by a puppy, Jolie moves at the last second and Yaz ends up getting her ear instead.

“I love you too babe, even though you just kissed my ear,” she laughs brightly. “Although, we’re not taking one home today. It’s probably better to wait until summer. Anyway, these buddies aren’t quite ready to go home yet, are you?” She croons, holding one of the squirming puppies up to her face and scrunching up her nose.

Yaz looks around her at the mass of puppies, overwhelmed by the choice. As if she can sense her anxiety, Jolie leans over and places a hand on her knee. “Do you want to know more about them all, would that help? And remember, we don’t have to make a decision today,” she says reassuringly.

“Yeah, I think that would help.”

“Right-o, I’ll go and find someone,” she states, handing the puppy she’s holding to Yaz and stepping over the others to make her way carefully out of the room.

Taking a moment to digest the sudden onslaught of information, Yaz looks around the room at the bundles of fur. There is more reason for them to get a dog than just pleasure; they have discussed it extensively and have decided that the dog they will get, they will train to support them both through panic and anxiety attacks as well as bad ADHD or mobility days for Jolie. Although neither of their needs are limiting enough for the dog they get to be officially registered as a service dog and therefore will not be able to go _everywhere_ with them, it will still be a huge improvement to both of their lives. They just have to find the right dog for the job.

A few minutes later, Jolie reappears in the room with Rose in tow, and Yaz smiles widely at her as she comes in.

“Hey, Yaz! Long time, no see,” she greets, reaching out to shake Yaz’s hand. Yaz returns the shake as best she can from where she is trapped on the floor with two puppies on her lap.

“Hi, Rose! It’s good to see you again. Sorry for not getting up,” she apologises, gesturing to the bundles of fur, but Rose just shakes her head.

“Don’t worry, I get it," she reassures, before sitting down on a chair along the side of the room, Jolie sitting down next to her.

"So, you two are looking for a dog?" She asks, and Jolie nods enthusiastically.

"Yeah! We've been thinking about it for a little while, but things for us are getting more serious and Yaz is about to graduate so she'll have some time off before she starts her masters degree," Jolie explains, beaming with pride. Yaz flushes deeply, directing her gaze down to one of the bundles of fur in her lap.

“Ahh, a good plan, new puppies always need a lot of time and patience to settle in. But you know that, of course,” she says, directing the last part of the sentence to Jolie, who nods while leaning down to scoop up the puppy who is sniffing around her feet.

“Is there anything in particular you’re looking for?” Rose asks, and Yaz nods, looking to Jolie to let her explain. She is the dog expert, and the one that this new addition will be helping the most after all.

“We’d ideally like a younger dog, a puppy, that we can train ourselves. We’re wanting to train the dog to help us both too, but mostly me. So, erm, things to do with my ADHD like anxiety and panic and general forgetfulness, but also to be able to fetch things for me if I’m not having a good day mobility-wise,” she explains in a bit of a mumble as her cheeks flush. Yaz can tell that she is embarrassed, and although she thinks that she should not be and she has every right to need that extra support, Yaz can understand why she is uncomfortable all the same so she shuffles over and squeezes her leg subtly. She gets a smile of appreciation in return.

“Okay, so you’re probably looking for something like a collie, a german shepherd, or a lab. They’re all pretty easy to train and are common breeds for service dogs. Will you be registering the dog?”

Yaz shakes her head. “Probably not. We’ve looked into it and the requirements are quite tough, we’re not sure we would meet them. We’ll still be training regardless, though,” Yaz explains, and Rose nods in thought.

“That makes sense. Are you bothered about the dog being a purebred or not?”

Both of them shake their heads simultaneously. “Nope, we’re not bothered about that,” Jolie explains, and Rose grins. 

“That’s what we like to hear! You know this already, Jolie, but we get so many people who want to adopt but when they realise that most of the dogs we get here, especially puppies, aren’t purebred dogs they change their mind. Like these guys. But you’re still pretty cute, aren’t you?” Rose coos, reaching down to ruffle one of the puppies on the head.

“Yeah, it’s quite sad,” Jolie hums.

“True, but then we get lovely people like you.”

Jolie and Yaz smile at each other sheepishly. That is part of the reason why they wanted to adopt; Jolie having worked in the industry means that she is aware of just how hard it can be for mixed breed puppies to find their new homes.

“Well, this litter here, there’s definitely some husky and german shepherd in them, but we think there’s something else in there. Possibly some lab or collie, judging by the fur texture. But these are probably just what you’re looking for,” she explains, and Yaz’s face lights up.

“Really?”

“Yeah! I would encourage you not to rush the decision, and there are plenty of other dogs here that you can look at. It’s important that you get the right dog for you.”

Yaz nods, continuing to play with the puppy in her lap. She understands what Rose is saying, but at the same time, she cannot help the feeling that among the puppies in this room, one of them will end up being theirs.

* * *

_4 months later_

“Jo, love, what are you doing?” Yaz grumbles, voice laced with sleep as she folds her arms across her chest and leans against the frame of the archway into their living room. Her girlfriend is sitting sort of cross legged in the middle of the floor, engaged in a fierce battle of tug and war with a bundle of brown and white fur named Oreo. At least it’s an actual dog toy and not one of their socks for a change. He’s yelping intermittently, which is what had awoken Yaz from her slumber in the first place.

“Oh! Mornin’ Yaz. I’m tryin’ to get some of this one’s wiggles out before Clara gets here with Isaac. We’re trying not to terrorise the poor baby,” Jolie laughs, tackling Oreo to the floor in a ball of fluff. Now that she has mentioned it, having a baby and a puppy in the house for the next two days is going to be the epitome of adorable chaos, and it might just be the thing that makes Yaz’s heart finally melt into a puddle on the floor. Not that her partner of two years hasn’t given that a good go thus far.

“Babe, I love you dearly, but it’s seven in the morning. On a _Saturday,”_ Yaz complains half-heartedly as she settles to the floor beside Jolie, allowing Oreo to climb into her lap and lick her chin vigorously.

“And? Y’know me and Oreo are always up with the larks.”

Yaz rolls her eyes. Her patience is thin at this time in the morning, but she knows that Jolie thinks her actions are perfectly justified, and really, it’s nothing too far out of the ordinary, minus the yelping, so she can’t have expected much else.

“I know, but we’re about to have a seven month old baby sharing our bedroom who is yet to sleep through the night, and it’s been a really long week at uni,” Yaz reasons, her masters degree has really been taking its toll on her, and she rests her head against her girlfriend’s shoulder with a yawn. It wasn’t intentional, but it does demonstrate her point quite nicely.

“Hmm, you might have a point,” she muses, scooping Oreo up and setting him down on the floor with a ruffle of his fur before using the back of the sofa for leverage to stand up. “C’mon then.”

“Babe, where are we — Jo!” Yaz squeaks as her girlfriend bends down and scoops her straight up from the floor in strong arms, half-carrying her back to their bedroom and placing her down on the bed. Yeah, she’s really in for some trouble this weekend, but she wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Having a good day today, I see,” she smirks, poking Jolie’s thigh, just above her knee. Yaz knows that she has a lot of strength in her arms now after over a year or using crutches on and off, but it is rare that she is having such a pain-free day that she can pick Yaz up and carry her somewhere. Such a rarity that Yaz practically swoons every time she does it.

“Right, what do you want for breakfast?” Jolie asks as she tucks Yaz back into bed.

“What?”

“Breakfast in bed, I’m making you breakfast in bed.”

“Jo, you don’t have to…” Yaz tries to protest, but Jolie is having none of it.

“I don’t have to, but I _want_ to. You’ve had a long week, and it’s starting to get colder and darker again, I know how much you hate that. Let me look after you.” Her tone softens with the last sentence, and Yaz’s heart skips in her chest. Jolie being so insistent on caring for her has Yaz smitten like when they first met. She still can’t believe it’s been two years, and they’re still together and happier than ever, even so far as discussing their future together. They’ve talked about it at length, and while no official gestures have been made, Yaz knows it won’t be long. In fact, she has a ring hidden in the drawer of her bedside table, it’s just a matter of finding the right moment.

“If you insist,” Yaz giggles, reaching out a hand to capture Jolie’s.

“I do insist. So, what are you after?”

“Porridge,” Yaz decides easily. The porridge her girlfriend makes is like a hug in a bowl, and it’s what she needs this morning.

“Porridge coming right up,” the blonde beams, planting a light kiss on Yaz’s cheek before hopping back up off the bed and heading to the kitchen. Yaz grins as she watches her go, finding herself wondering just how she managed to get so lucky.

* * *

A couple of hours later they are both washed, dressed, and fed. Oreo has been for a walk and now he is taking a nap in the bedroom while Yaz and Jolie wait for Clara to arrive with Isaac. Although the puppy and the baby have met before a few times, they still made the decision to keep him away for now so as to avoid overwhelming Isaac when he arrives, as well as preventing any escape attempts while the door is open.

Before long they see Clara’s car drive up the street and pull up behind their own outside, and Jolie practically leaps off the sofa in excitement. For a moment, Yaz considers that it might be an awful lot like looking after two kids for the weekend.

“Hi! Jolie greets as she opens the front door, but Clara immediately starts piling stuff into her arms. Yaz can still tell that her best friend is nervous, and rightly so, this is the longest she will have been away from her son, but it is slightly amusing all the same.

“... baby bath seat, bath toys, bath stuff, all his clothes, nappy bag, teddy, snacks, milk, Isaac,” she lists off, handing the towering stack of items to Jolie while she finally hands Isaac over to Yaz, who naturally settles him on her hip and gives him a smile. He gurgles and grins back at her, chewing on his fingers. She watches in amusement as Jolie wobbles precariously over to the sofa, dropping the pile of stuff in her arms onto it with a muffled clatter before straightening back up and grinning at the trio in the doorway smiling at her affectionately.

“Buggy and travel cot are in the car. His car seat too, in case you want that?” She says, her tone anxious as she crosses and uncrosses her arms from her chest.

“We might do, if the weather holds up we’ll go out for the day somewhere tomorrow,” Yaz says, and Clara nods.

“I’ll come and help you,” Jolie offers, already making her way back out of the front door. Yaz stays inside, sitting down on the sofa with Isaac on her lap as she starts to try and make sense of some of the stuff that Clara has lent them. She already knew that babies need a lot of extra stuff, an astonishing amount for someone so small, but then again they are generally a bit helpless. It leaves her thinking just how she and Jolie will manage themselves in the future.

Her thoughts are cut off by a loud _thunk_ , and she looks up to see Jolie manhandling what looks like the collapsible travel cot through their front door. She assumes that the thunk was Jolie accidentally hitting it off the doorframe.

“Alright there?” She giggles, watching as Jolie scrunches her face up in concentration and her tongue pokes out the corner of her mouth.

“Aha!” Jolie cries in triumph as she manages to get it through the door, a grin on her face.

“What were you saying, love?” She asks, hands on hips as she blows strands of hair out of her face.

“Nothing,” Yaz smirks, glancing towards the tight turn of their hallway into their bedroom.

“You’ve gotta get that into the bedroom now,” she says, laughing at Jolie’s forlorn expression.

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” Clara pipes up as she pushes the buggy through the door.

“I set this up already for you, by the way. It can be a bit awkward to do without jamming your fingers, I thought I’d save you that trouble,” she says, and Yaz smiles gratefully.

“Thanks, that’ll be a big help. You can probably leave that in the foyer, if you want. I doubt upstairs will want anything to do with it,” she suggests, already noting how crowded their tiny living space has become with the amount of stuff crammed into it.

“Good idea, don’t want anyone tripping over it,” she quips, raising her eyebrows at Jolie before backing up and parking the buggy in the hallway.

“Hey! I’m not that bad!” She protests, only receiving pointed looks of disbelief from the other parties in the room. Even Isaac pulls a strange face in her direction.

“Jo, you tripped over your own crutches this morning when you were trying to get dressed.”

“And! I landed on the bed, I’m perfectly fine!”

“Well, that seems doubtful.”

“Oi!”

“Okay, okay,” Clara interrupts in good nature, holding her hands up. “No domestics in front of the baby, please,” she grins, making her way over to Isaac and Yaz on the sofa and sitting down next to them. Yaz knows what is about to come, because Clara had warned her that she would find it difficult to leave her son and they should throw her out by force if necessary. Still, it is hard.

“Now, little mister, are you going to be a good boy for your Aunty Yaz and your Aunty Jolie?” She asks, and Isaac just grins back at her, drooling slightly.

“I’ll take that as a yes, then. Can mummy have a cuddle before she goes?” She asks, but looks at Yaz with big eyes, and really, how can Yaz say no so she hands him over.

“Bye bye baby boy, I love you very much. You be good for me, and I’ll call you tonight before bed, okay?” She says, and Yaz can hear the emotion in her voice. Isaac, on the other hand, does not seem to care one bit and is far more interested in extracting himself from Clara’s grasp to access his toys that are already strewn across the coffee table.

“Go on, he’ll be fine,” Yaz instructs, gently but firmly.

“You’ll call if there’s any problems?” Clara asks, shakily making her way to her feet.

“We will, but I doubt there’ll be any,” Yaz reassures, balancing Isaac back on her hip as she gently pushes Clara towards the front door.

“And I can facetime him before you put him to bed?”

“Absolutely,” Jolie says, pulling Clara into a hug and rubbing her back. “Now, go and enjoy yourself, enjoy some baby free time,” she says, and Clara smiles.

“Bye, baby boy,” she smiles, blowing a kiss at her son, who smiles back at her.

 _“Bye bye mummy!”_ Jolie echoes back in a high pitched voice, picking up Isaac’s hand and making him wave at Clara. To her credit, she only has to wipe her eyes once and give him one last kiss on the cheek before she is out of the door. When they hear the car engine start, Yaz turns to Jolie with a nervous smile on her face.

“Ready to be parents for the weekend?” She grins, adjusting her hold on Isaac.

“Ready as I’ll ever be!”

* * *

That afternoon, after successful reintroductions of the baby and the puppy have been made and they have all had lunch, they decide to go out to the local park. According to the detailed schedule Clara gave them, it is soon time for Isaac to have a nap and apparently he falls asleep best while out for a walk in his buggy. So, laden down with what seems like far too much stuff for such a simple outing, they set off; Jolie pushing the buggy, which is doubling up as support for her after she’d been a little over-ambitious earlier in the day, and Yaz with a tight hold on Oreo’s lead as he tries to sniff at every lamppost in sight.

Eventually they reach the park and Jolie makes a beeline for the playground, forcing Yaz and Oreo to follow.

“Should we give him some time in here?” She suggests, gesturing towards the gate.

“He’s only just learnt to crawl, Jo, never mind walk. I'm not sure what joy he’s going to get out of the playground,” Yaz says, frowning in confusion.

“He can still go on the swings!”

Yaz looks over the iron fence to the swings right in front of them.

“There aren’t any empty baby swings.”

“Well he can just sit on my lap then, can’t he!” Jolie enthuses, a wide grin on her face.

"You just want to go on the swings, don't you?"

"That is not specified," Jolie grins as she leans down to unstrap Isaac from his buggy before making her way over to the gate and then the swingset on the other side of the fence.

Yaz watches with a subtle smile as Jolie sits down on one of the big swings and sits Isaac over her lap, using her good leg to swing them back and forth a bit. Isaac giggles and claps his hands together, and Jolie beams widely.

“See! He’s having fun!” She says and Yaz cannot help but agree. In fact, the sight makes her heart warm, and once again she concludes that she really is in for trouble this weekend. The need to give the ring in her bedside table to Jolie is growing stronger and stronger.

Checking Oreo is still sitting obediently by her feet, which he is as always, Yaz pulls her phone out of her pocket and turns on the camera.

“Hey, guys! Smile for me!” She calls, raising her phone just as Jolie looks up. She catches them mid swing, Jolie grinning down at Isaac who is giggling with joy; it is the perfect photograph to send to Clara.

 **Yaz [13:40]:** [image] having fun already, although it’s hard to say who is enjoying themselves more x

 **Clara [13:45]:** looks like it. I’ll call you later to say goodnight to him x

After a few more minutes of swinging, Jolie gets up and makes her way back to Yaz and Oreo, carefully bending down to secure Isaac back into his pushchair. Yaz watches her carefully, knowing that bending that far down might be hard for her. But, she seems to manage okay and straightens back up.

“Do you fancy going to the café, getting something to eat?” Jolie suggests, pointing across the park to the small café, her face lighting up in excitement. Finding that she is actually a bit hungry and the promise of a warm fruit scone from the café is more than appealing, Yaz nods with just as much enthusiasm.

So, together, they set off towards the café, Jolie pushing the buggy with one hand while the other is clasped in Yaz’s free hand as they stroll slowly down the path. They make it to the café, one of their favourites given that it is dog friendly indoors and they do not have to sit outside in the cold, and Yaz holds open the door for her partner while Jolie pushes the buggy carefully over the threshold. Her tongue pokes out the corner of her mouth in concentration when one of the wheels gets stuck on the door frame. Eventually, they make it through, but Yaz can already tell that Jolie is feeling a bit overwhelmed and confused by the extra addition to their group, and she has frozen in the middle of the entryway, not quite sure what to do next.

“Do you want to place the order and I’ll sort out a table?” Yaz suggests gently, and Jolie nods in relief.

“One in the corner?” She asks, and Yaz nods.

“Of course. It’ll stop Isaac’s pushchair getting in the way too.”

“Good thinking. Do you want your usual?”

Yes please.”

“Wait, do we need to get anything for him?” Jolie asks, her brow furrowing again.

“No, don’t think so. Clara usually just shares her food with him, right?”

“Right, yeah. We’ll just share. That should be fine, shouldn’t it?”

Yaz smiles and steps back so she is closer to Jolie, winding her arm around her waist and squeezing in comfort.

“Deep breaths, babe. We’ve been here before,” Yaz reassures, pleased when Jolie makes the effort to take a few calming, steadying breaths. She is getting so much better at managing her own panic.

“Right, yeah. Just got all confused because we have Isaac here too,” she admits, rubbing the back of her neck.

“I know. But you just have to order the exact same thing as normal. You’ve got this,” Yaz reassures before giving her arm one last squeeze and making her way into the café to find them a table. While she claims a spot in the corner, ties Oreo’s lead to the leg of the table, sets up a highchair for Isaac and grabs a stack of cutlery and napkins, she watches Jolie carefully at the counter. She doesn’t think that she will need to intervene, it was only a small blip after all and they’ve been here countless times, but she is always watching her, just in case.

A few minutes later, Jolie comes back over with a full tray balanced carefully in her grip which she sets down on the corner table they have claimed. Even better, it is a booth and so she can slide in next to Yaz rather than sitting opposite her. As soon as she sits down, Oreo gets up to resettle himself on top of her feet, and Yaz can see her girlfriend relax at the familiar pressure, grounding her in place.

“Ohh, bagel. Plain?” She observes as she takes her own warmed fruit scone and cup of tea from the tray.

“Yeah. He should be fine if I give him some of the soft bit from the middle, and he’ll be fine if you give him some of yours, just make sure there aren’t any raisins in there. Babies can’t have raisins,” Jolie instructs as her years of babysitting experience kick back in, her momentary panic forgotten already.

Taking a sip of her tea, Yaz hums in content as Jolie leans over her to deposit a few, small pieces of the soft part of her bagel onto the tray of the highchair before starting to decorate the remainder of her snack with butter and an almost excessive amount of jam. At the sight of the food on his tray, Isaac kicks his chubby legs in excitement, immediately grabbing a piece and holding it to his mouth, sucking contentedly. Clara had said that while he is only just starting to teeth, he will quite happily suck on soft foods until they are dissolved enough for him to eat, and he seems perfectly happy with the pieces of bagel and scone.

While they eat, they chatter contentedly, ideas of what to do with Isaac this evening, and their plans for tomorrow before Clara comes to pick him up later on. If it doesn’t rain, they would like to go on a day out, but if it does rain they need to have a backup option ready. But, that is something to be discussed in the morning, when their conversation is interrupted by an older woman at the table next to them. She seems to have been caught by Isaac’s infectious grins, and is busy pulling faces at him while he giggles. They look over simultaneously, smiling at the woman.

“Hi, hope you don’t mind,” she says, smiling sheepishly.

“Not at all, he’s enjoying himself,” Jolie reassures.

“How old is he?” 

“Seven months,” Yaz supplies, taking over while Jolie has a mouthful of bagel.

“Aww. Bet he’s a bit of a handful though.”

“Nah, he’s pretty good, aren’t you dude?” Yaz answers, grinning at Isaac who is certainly more interested in his fistful of scone and smearing it over as much of his face as possible than the conversation about him. The woman smiles fondly at him, before a man, presumably her husband, comes back to her table and they leave.

“I think she thought he was our baby,” Yaz muses when they are out of earshot, and Jolie’s eyebrows shoot up her face in surprise almost comically.

“Really?”

“Yeah. It felt kinda nice though,” Yaz admits, dusting crumbs from her hands.

“Hmm. Yeah, it did. Makes me want that even more.”

“Me too, babe. We’ll get there one day.”

* * *

That evening, Yaz and Jolie discover why it probably is not the best decision to give a seven month old baby spaghetti bolognese, even if you give him small pieces of pasta instead of spaghetti noodles. By the end of the dinner Isaac is sitting proudly in his booster seat strapped to one of their dining chairs, the spoils of his efforts to make as much mess as possible evident on his face, the table, and even the floor. Not to mention poor Jolie’s arm, who hadn’t quite gotten out of the firing line fast enough more than once.

“I think someone needs a bath,” she states, using the baby wipes Clara had provided to try and get the worst of the mess off Isaac’s face, something which he protests loudly.

“Just maybe,” Yaz giggles, pushing her chair back from the table and standing up.

“Do you want to change him and get him ready for the bath while I rinse the dishes and run the bath?” Yaz suggests, and Jolie nods, finishing up her rudimentary cleaning job before unbuckling Isaac and lifting him up. Unfortunately, the movement dislodges a pile of bolognese that had collected in his lap and sends it tumbling to the floor, just adding to the mess. Jolie sighs in defeat, holding a far too proud baby in front of her at arm's length.

“You enjoy making all the mess far too much, don’t you?” She accuses, and Isaac gurgles back at her.

“Rude,” Jolie tuts, bringing him to balance on her hip before taking him back to the bedroom to get ready for a bath.

While Jolie takes Isaac, Yaz makes a decent effort to clean up the majority of the mess on and around the table before moving Jolie’s shower stool out of the way and setting the bath to run while she rinses out their dinner dishes. She can hear Jolie chatting away to Isaac in the bedroom while she changes him, and she smiles at just how at ease Jolie is with him. Ever since Isaac had been born and they had taken on the role as appointed aunts, Yaz has seen a completely different side of Jolie that she had never seen before, something so soft and caring that it takes her breath away every time.

Shaking the water from her hands, Yaz dries them and gives Oreo a scratch behind his ears before moving to the bathroom to check on the bath. Discovering that it is as deep as it needs to be, which is not very, she checks the temperature, adds a glug of bubble bath to give Isaac something to play with and shuts off the tap. She is just putting the bath seat in the bottom of the tub when she hears the bedroom door open and she turns around to see Jolie, carrying Isaac through and, for whatever reason, wearing her swimsuit.

“Care to explain why you look like you’re about to cannonball into the pool?” Yaz snickers, standing up to regard Jolie. It’s been a while since they’ve been swimming together for no other reason than a lack of time, and Yaz definitely is not complaining about Jolie looks in her bright yellow and blue triangle-blocked costume.

“Oi, stop ogling me, there’s a baby here,” Jolie scolds, moving into the room more. “But I thought it might be a good idea to get in with him, make sure he’s, y’know, safe and stuff,” she tries to reason, but Yaz sees straight through it.

“Ahh, you don’t fool me, Miss Smith. _You_ just want to play with the bubbles, don’t you,” she grins accusingly, and Jolie sighs.

“Shh, don’t tell him that! He’ll keep them all from me!” She stage-whispers, covering one of Isaac’s ears with her spare hand.

“You’re ridiculous, you know that?” Yaz laughs, stepping out of the way and sitting herself down on the closed lid of the toilet seat.

“And that’s why you love me,” Jolie quips, stepping into the room to put Isaac into the bath. But, Yaz notices, when she tries to bend down to reach she falters and has to stop, a grimace on her face.

“Hey, what’s the matter?”

“Don’t think I can bend down that far to get him into the bath,” she admits, shame clouding her face when she straightens back up with difficulty, looking at Yaz. Yaz herself feels like an idiot for not even considering the problem; most days Jolie can’t bend down far enough to pick something up off the floor without holding onto something to steady her, or just have Oreo do it for her. No wonder she cannot balance the additional weight of Isaac without something to steady herself. Yaz dithers for a moment before spotting the shower stool she had tucked under the sink earlier, and it all clicks into place.

“Here, why don’t you sit on your shower stool and then put him in? You’ll be lower down to start off with so you don’t have to reach as far, and you don’t have to worry about your balance as much,” Yaz suggests, pulling the white plastic seat out and encouraging Jolie to sit down on it, which she does with a relieved sigh. From there, she is easily able to lower Isaac into the bath and deposit him in his little bath seat, where he immediately starts kicking his legs and splashing around. But when she straightens up, she still looks glum.

“Talk to me,” Yaz commands gently, wrapping an arm around her torso and stroking the scar on her shoulder with her thumb.

“How am I supposed to be a good parent to our own kid in the future if I can’t even put Isaac in the bath properly?” She mumbles, hanging her head.

“Jolie, is he in the bath?”

“Yeah…”

“And is he safe in that seat?”

“Yeah,” Jolie admits, shrugging her shoulders.

“Then, as far as I’m concerned, you’ve done it properly,” Yaz reassures, but Jolie still does not look convinced. Yaz moves to sit down on the edge of the bath opposite Jolie and takes her hands in her own, running her thumbs over the back of them comfortingly.

“Jolie, this —” she breaks off to tap gently at her knee “— doesn’t mean you can’t be a good parent, not one bit. Parenting isn’t all about how much you can physically do, it’s about how much you love that kid. And you, Jolie Smith, are so full of love. It won’t just be you in this either, it’ll be both of us. So we’ll split tasks, that’s how things work. We’ll make certain choices when we get stuff that means it’ll be easier for you to look after our baby how you want to. If you can’t do something safely, then I’ll do it. You don’t have to do _everything,”_ Yaz reassures, allowing Jolie to lean further and further forward until their foreheads knock together, and she takes some deep breaths in the hope that Jolie will do too. She does, working to calm herself down until she sits up of her own accord, rolling her shoulders.

“Thanks...I think I just always saw myself as such an active parent, and I’m not sure I’ll be able to do that now, if ever,” she admits quietly. Yaz smiles at her sympathetically, squeezing her hands.

“Then we’ll find ways around it, like we always do with everything. This isn’t a solo thing, remember?”

“Right, yeah,” Jolie replies, shaking her head as if to clear the negative thoughts away.

“You’re amazing, y’know? I love you so much.”

“I love you so much too, Jo. Now, do you still want to get in there and play with the bubbles?”

“Obviously … give me a hand in?”

“Always.”

They both stand up so that Yaz can take hold of Jolie’s elbows, and Jolie her wrists to steady her while she sits on the edge of the bath and swings her legs over before sliding into the tub. Yaz has to bite back a giggle when Jolie gasps at the temperature of the water.

“Holy fudge nuggets that’s cold,” she winces, looking at Yaz with a complete expression of betrayal.

“It’s not even that cold, it’s just because you’re used to having the water absolutely scalding when you take a bath,” Yaz giggles.

“For that, Yasmin Khan, you get this,” Jolie retorts, scooping up a handful of bubbles and dumping them on top of Yaz’s head.

“Oh you’re so for it,” Yaz fires back, launching her own retaliation.

By the end of the bath, Yaz ends up just as drenched as Isaac and Jolie and both so-called adults are in fits of giggles. Despite the small hiccups they have encountered, Yaz feels more and more sure that one day, she will be able to have a family of her own.

* * *

It is dark when Yaz wakes up, and at first she is confused and disorientated, not sure why she had awoken so suddenly in the first place until she hears Isaac crying plaintively from his travel cot at the end of their bed. Rubbing her eyes, she sits herself up carefully so as to avoid waking her partner snoring lightly as ever beside her but her efforts prove to be entirely pointless because apparently the crying woke Jolie too. 

Sliding out of bed, Yaz scoops Isaac up and cuddles him close, bouncing him gently.

“Shh, it’s alright, it’s okay,” she soothes as he rests his head against her shoulder, yawning impressively before sticking his fingers in his mouth and sucking them as he continues to cry.

“Think s’because he’s teethin’,” Jolie mumbles, sitting up and shuffling to the edge of the bed.

“Should we give him one of those teething toys Clara left?” Yaz whispers, and Jolie nods before reaching her arms out.

“Can you get it? Not balanced enough,” she asks in explanation before Yaz hands the baby over. As soon as he is lying against Jolie, head on her shoulder, he seems to calm down and Yaz finds herself softening inside once again at Jolie’s natural touch with children. She leaves momentarily to grab one of the teething rings and climbs behind Jolie on the bed to hand it to Isaac, who grabs at it and sticks it in his mouth, chewing and sucking on the squishy but firm plastic contentedly.

“I know mate, it’s not fun growing new teeth, is it? Those poor little gums,” Jolie whispers to him, rubbing his back while Yaz crawls forward to sit herself next to them, winding an arm around Jolie’s waist and kissing her cheek.

“You’re so good with him,” she muses, watching as Isaac’s hiccupy cries turn to slow sniffles under Jolie’s careful care.

“Practice,” Jolie replies nonchalantly, but even in the low light Yaz can see the flush to her cheeks. While they wait for Isaac to drop off again, Yaz leans her head against Jolie’s shoulder and rubs slow circles into her back, mirroring the way she is soothing Isaac. By the time the baby is asleep again, Jolie practically is too so Yaz gently takes him away from her to lay him back down before getting back into bed beside Jolie. As her partner rests her head on her chest and winds her limbs around her, that feeling from earlier in the day grows even stronger.

* * *

The next day, Isaac seems to wake up in a much better mood, but the weather doesn’t seem to be in agreement and rain pelts at the windows as Yaz attempts to spoon weetabix into Isaac’s mouth before he grabs it and attempts it himself. Jolie was still asleep when she woke early, and so she left her to sleep while she went about her morning routine, this time with the addition of a baby. It is not long before she hears the click of Jolie crutches against the wooden floors and she looks up and smiles as she makes her way into the room, her hair still mussed and sticking up all over the place from sleep, her cheeks pink.

“Morning, hummingbird,” Yaz murmurs, winding an arm around her waist when she gets close enough and smiling when Jolie leans down to kiss the top of her head.

“Sleep well?”

“Yeah...you should have woken me though,” she protests quietly, voice rough with sleep, but Yaz is having none of it. 

“Nope, you deserved the lie-in, and you looked so peaceful. Plus you’re grumpy if I wake you up.”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

Jolie sticks her tongue out childishly in response before sitting down in the window seat, opposite Isaac and smiling at him through tired eyes.

“And how is my little friend this morning. Enjoying that weetabix?”

Isaac grins and waves his hands in response, giving Jolie a perfect view of the inside of his cereal-filled mouth.

“Eww. I’ll take that as a yes then,” she giggles, leaning down to give Oreo attention when he noses at her legs.

“I let him out already to do his business but I haven’t had the chance or the motivation to go and take him for a walk yet,” Yaz says, and Jolie nods. He doesn’t seem to be too bothered about his lack of a morning walk just yet, and she decides that he can wait a bit longer, hopefully until the weather eases off a bit.

“Are you okay to walk him this morning or not?” Yaz asks, giving Isaac the last spoonful of his cereal and moving onto the yoghurt as she nods to where Jolie’s crutches are resting against the wall.

“Not sure, can’t quite tell if it’s just a morning wobble yet or a bad day,” she shrugs, fondling Oreo’s ears when he shuffles closer to rest his head on her lap.

“Well if it stops raining we can all go out, get some fresh air. If not I don’t mind just taking him out around the block, there’d be no point in all three of us getting drenched.”

Jolie nods before standing up from the table again. 

“Have you had breakfast?” She asks, and Yaz shakes her head as she concentrates on feeding Isaac his yoghurt.

“I’m going to make toast, want some?” 

“Please.”

“Toast coming right up.”

******

Even after they have all eaten and gotten dressed for the day, it is still pelting down with rain so Yaz takes Oreo out for a brief walk while Jolie stays home with Isaac, reading some of his picture books to him and playing with his toys. She is rid of her crutches, it had just been morning unsteadiness, a common occurrence, but privately she is glad that it was nothing more than that and she will still be able to spend the rest of the day making the most of her time with Isaac. She had babysat plenty as a teenager, but after moving away from home she had not had the chance to spend any time at all with young children and babies. But now, just over six years later, she essentially has a nephew and she is realising just how much she had missed it and how strong that desire for a child of their own runs.

She is pulled from her thoughts by the bang of the front door and she looks up to see Yaz in the doorway, an extremely muddy Oreo in her arms.

 _“Someone_ decided to roll around on the swampy field,” she groans, adjusting her hold on the puppy when he squirms to be put down on the floor. There is no way Yaz will let him loose until he has had a thorough bath. 

“Do you need a hand?” Jolie asks, and Yaz nods, already making her way to the bathroom to deposit the bundle of mud and fur into the bath.

“Probably,” Yaz calls from the bathroom. “Oreo, sit,” she instructs. “Good boy.”

Jolie smiles as she stands up with Isaac, making her way to the bedroom. Swapping places with Yaz, she makes sure that Oreo stays put in the bathtub and doesn’t try to make a break for it while Yaz puts Isaac in his travel cot with some toys to keep him occupied while they deal with the mess Oreo has gotten himself into.

Once Oreo is finally clean, he is set free and Yaz fetches Isaac from the bedroom so the four of them can hang out together. As they settle down on the floor, Isaac between Yaz’s outstretched legs and Oreo between Jolie’s. The two adults watch in adoration as the two young lives interact, Oreo incredibly gentle and well behaved and Isaac giggling with excitement as Oreo pushes his nose into him and licks his hands. 

Catching Yaz’s eyes over the top of their heads, Jolie grins warmly, and she knows that even without Yaz saying anything, this solidifies another piece, one of the last pieces of confirmation that they need that this is what they want. And that this will work. That, in the future, they can have this if they want, and that there is nothing stopping them.

* * *

The next weekend, both Jolie and Yaz find that they are still riding the high of such a cozy and domestic weekend spent with baby Isaac, and Jolie in particular finds that a very important, question has been pressing at the back of her mind all week, so much so that it has been difficult to concentrate at work.

The previous weekend had confirmed to Jolie what she and Yaz had been talking about for months, ever since Isaac had been born really. In the back of Jolie’s side of the wardrobe sits a small, black box, an inside that small, black box sits the tangible reality of that feeling. Two delicate silver bands woven together and set with three tiny gemstones; rose quartz for unconditional love, aquamarine for courage and communication, and emerald, Yaz’s birthstone.

Looking out the window that afternoon, she finds that the rain has stopped, the sky is clear, and so she goes back to the bedroom, retrieving the box and slipping it into the inside pocket of her jacket. Walking back into the living room, she taps Yaz on the shoulder to get her attention away from her sketchbook on her lap. Yaz looks up at her and smiles.

“Yeah?”

“Fancy taking Oreo for a w-a-l-k up in the peaks? Watch the sunset together?” Jolie asks, spelling out the word to avoid bringing about too much hyperactivity in their puppy who is currently lying across Yaz’s legs and dozing happily.

“Yeah, sure,” she agrees easily, sitting up and gently jostling Oreo to awake him. “I just need to go and grab something from the bedroom.”

“Sure,” Jolie grins, busying herself with tying her laces and attaching Oreo’s lead to his collar before collecting their hiking boots to put in the back of the car. She is glad that this all seems to be coming together; the good weather, a quiet weekend, her lack of need for crutches today, and the chance she got earlier in the week to practice something particular with Oreo. While there are nerves fluttering in her belly as they walk towards the car, double checking she can still feel the box, there is also excitement, because after this, things will be different, and for good.

* * *

“Hey, babe. Dogs on leashes sign,” Yaz calls back, pointing down the path before tilting her head to look back at her girlfriend.

_Now, now’s the moment._

They’re right at the top of the walk now; the dense, fiery trees have opened out into a small clearing, the hills falling away beneath them to the city sprawled out below. One of their favourite places in Sheffield.

Bending down, Jolie calls Oreo over from where he’s sniffing around at the base of a tree. He bounds over happily, tongue lolling and spinning himself in circles once he reaches Jolie’s feet. She catches his collar in an attempt to still him, and he does, but his tail is still wagging erratically. Checking Yaz is suitably distracted (she is, facing away and looking at something on her phone) she gets Oreo to sit and slips the box from her jacket pocket that she’d been fiddling with nervously the whole walk, just to make sure it was still there. Checking on Yaz, who is still distracted, she turns back to Oreo and attaches the ring to his collar.

“Okay buddy, just like we practiced. Please don’t mess this up for me, yeah? We both love our Yaz very much.”

Oreo practically grins back at her, his butt still on the ground but wriggling around in his puppy excitement. 

“Go on then, go find Yaz!” she grins, standing to turn to look at her girlfriend. When she turns though, it’s definitely not what she was expecting.

Not at all.

Yaz is down on one knee, her hands outstretched and holding a ring.

Jolie _gawps_ at her, so surprised that she forgets to even attempt to catch Oreo, who is now barrelling towards Yaz at an alarming speed. He crashes into her, forcing her to sit back on the slightly damp grass and he climbs into her lap.

“Oreo! Kinda ruining the moment here, dude!” she laughs, gently pushing the bundle of fur from her lap and returning to her original position. Jolie stays rooted to the spot in shock.

“What I was trying to say,” she laughs, holding the ring up once again, “Is that since the day I met you, my life has been infinitely better. Jolie, you’re the best person I’ve ever met and I can’t imagine ever spending another day without you and I swear I had loads more stuff I wanted to say but my brain has sort of gone blank, but essentially the point I’m trying to make is; Will you marry me?”

Jolie grins brighter than the sun and all the stars; she already knows her answer.

“Babe, check Oreo’s collar. That’s your answer,” she smiles, taking a few steps forward.

Yaz looks at her in confusion, but scoops Oreo up anyway and begins to fumble with his collar. Jolie knows she’s found it when Yaz gasps audibly and looks back up at her.

“So I’m guessing that’s a yes?” she smiles through already forming tears. Jolie sinks to the floor to sit opposite her, just as Yaz falls backwards to sit cross-legged on the grass.

“Absolutely, one thousand percent yes,” Jolie beams back, fireworks exploding inside her chest, because the love of her life just told her she wants to _marry her._ Yaz surges forward and captures her lips in a passionate kiss that makes the fireworks burn even brighter. Neither of them care that they’re sitting on damp grass in the middle of the path, kissing and laughing and crying, a muddy, excitable puppy squirming around in their laps; they only exist for each other in this moment.

Eventually, needing air, they break apart and Jolie fumbles with their puppy’s collar until she can free the ring. Yaz extends her hand, and Jolie slips the ring onto her finger, a fresh wave of happy tears overwhelming her. Yaz does the same with a ring that is surprisingly similar to her own; three thin strands of silver woven together and peppered with six tiny diamond stars. And then they are resting their foreheads together, staring at their joined hands, adorned with rings.

“Oh my god, we’re _engaged,”_ Yaz whispers, reaching up with her other hand to cup Jolie’s face.

Hey, _fiancée,”_ the blonde whispers back, drawing Yaz in for another sweet, loving kiss.

“You’re not going to stop calling me that for a month, are you?” Yaz laughs, and Jolie shakes her head.

“Nope, because you’re my fiancée and I love you.”

“Fiancée.” Yaz tests the word out on her tongue, and grins.

“What would my fiancée say about going home and taking a nice hot bath together?” Jolie proposes, just as she shivers violently from the building cold.

“I think your fiancée would enjoy that greatly,” Yaz grins, standing up from the damp ground and reaching out to take Jolie’s elbows to help her get to her feet. Linking their arms together, Oreo happily bounding along in front of them, both women feel a sense of warmth spreading out from their hearts and encompassing their whole being, before it reaches out and binds them together, as a unit. Together, they are warm, and together, they are strong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all, I want to say a humongous THANK YOU to every single person who has read this story; whether you have been reading since July (July!!!) when I started posting it, you joined halfway through or you binge read towards the end. Even if you are reading this long after it has been finished. I appreciate every hit, kudos, comment and subscription so much, and I cannot put that into words. This is the first fic I ever started writing, and it is what brought me into this wonderful community of people, and for that, I'm very thankful. I can't believe I've actually finished this story, that's completely mad to me, but I did it! These characters are mine, and my creation, and nobody can take that away from me. In all honesty, sometimes I forget that they're not real people.
> 
> On another note, I want to say a big thank you to WalkerLister and anobii1992, who are both incredible writers and friends and have helped me immenseley with getting this story out there, so thank you!
> 
> If you think this is the last of these two though, you would be wrong. Not only am I planning on writing one-shots for them from time to time (which I am absolutely taking requests for, by the way), I am also planning a full-on sequel for them! I don't have a date as to when I will start posting that, but keep your eyes peeled for that, as well as a brand new fic that I've been planning for a little while.
> 
> So, once again, thank you all for reading and I hope to see you all again soon!
> 
> If you ever want a chat, you can find me here:  
> Twitter: @emmyphant_  
> Tumblr: @emmyphant  
> Discord: @doodlesimss#8487
> 
> Chapter title is a line from this song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5porCZQnkY  
> A full playlist of all the songs mentioned in this fic can be found here: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0T2wY8WE7DwBZGH1Ui0agQ
> 
> Bye x


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